


We're Only Human

by rabidcur



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Canon Universe, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Force Choking, Injury, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidcur/pseuds/rabidcur
Summary: After the Battle of Crait, Hux examines how to cope with the abuse of a man he once loved.





	1. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I've lived a wicked life,  
> I will never change my ways.  
> An unapologetic runaway until it's my last day.  
> Why is it so easy to light a match and watch?  
> We were made to dry to timber,  
> We were made to turn to dust.

Hux stood in the cockpit of the command shuttle, nursing his cracked ribs as he watched Kylo attacking an illusion of the famed Luke Skywalker. Hux’s entire understanding of Kylo Ren had been upended in the span of a few short hours, unable to stop the sour, injured look creasing his increasingly pale features. The decimation of that much of the First Order fleet was, in a word, frustrating. Hux could understand Kylo’s concussed aggravation in the throne room, tensions were high. But the attack was utterly unexpected—a genuine act of violence, not the games they played behind closed doors.

Would Kylo have truly killed him if he refused to swear fealty? The knight had used his strange powers on Hux before, but to annoy him or tease him, not... not like that. For a man who considered himself to be above things like fear or conscience, Hux had genuinely panicked.

If only Brendol could see him now, demoralized in front of his army twice in two cycles by men utterly unfit to lead. Being born with ridiculous abilities did not automatically make one a good leader, requiring objectivity and logic—not allowing their emotions to rule, like the tall man currently standing alone on the cratered red surface of Crait.

Hux's chest ached.

Surely, his collision with the consoles was to blame, but that was only partly true. Hux didn’t claim to understand the Force, but even he could see that Kylo had been misled somehow, wasting good military hardware on what literally amounted to nothing. If Kylo had simply listened to Hux _in the first place_ , the knight wouldn’t have just embarrassed himself before both the Resistance and the First Order's army.

The next several hours were spent scouring the abandoned Resistance base. Transmissions were traced, and the crumbling tunnels of stone were mapped—finding the cleared escape route. There were patches of red disrupting the salt, the shape of landing gear and an entry ramp. The new Supreme Leader was alerted of their escape, the towering man stomping off to see the marks himself.

Kylo would recognize them anywhere—whenever Han would run from an argument with his wife, insisting he needed to clear his head. Ben assumed, like many children do, that their arguing was somehow his fault, that maybe everyone would be happy if he just disappeared. He just never dreamed that they would actually follow through, dumping him with Luke so they didn’t have to deal with him anymore—or so the dark voice in the back of his head always insisted.

The voice was gone now, even grandfather’s mask had gone quiet. And Rey—he didn’t need to be told that the Resistance had escaped, she’d shown him their victory and slammed the door in defiance. The fabricated connection was severed.

He was completely alone.

Hux was overseeing his officers as they combed through transmissions, pleased to find that the Resistance’s calls for help had been largely ignored. The First Order would rule the galaxy, something Hux had been made to strive for his entire life—and yet it felt hollow. Hux could make out the distant sound of Kylo hacking at boulders with his lightsaber, screaming at the sky like some kind of unruly child.

Hux’s chest throbbed in pain—he needed medical attention.

The return to the Finalizer was uncomfortable. It would be poor form to avoid the cockpit, but sharing confined space with Kylo was making Hux's heart beat too fast, his ribs aching as he kept his breathing controlled. Hux did all in his power not to look at the Supreme Leader slumped in a chair nearby, avoiding any sideways glances and keeping his mental guard up more than usual.

They all rode in tense silence.

Upon their return, Hux walked briskly off the shuttle and into the hangar, taking out his comm and demanding a status report from Captain Phasma. He needed a casualty count of her troops so he could combine them with officer losses, starting the long process of damage control. He attempted to comm her directly twice more, feeling a hollow space forming in his stomach, his pallor more pronounced than usual. He commed the Commander instead, as he would be the next to oversee stormtrooper operations. He responded that the Captain had stopped replying to comm transmissions after the attack on the Supremacy, shortly before her tracker went offline. Hux broke out in a cold sweat, thanking the Commander before shakily taking himself to the med bay.

He was simply going into shock from his untreated rib damage, that was all.

Hux didn’t have the luxury of mourning—they were at war, death could happen at any time. Phasma knew the risks of the position when she took it, and she'd always expressed her pride in being a major part of something bigger. Hux had always admired her, but there was no point in malingering over a lost soldier. She was gone.

The medic determined that Hux had three fractured ribs, a mild concussion, bruising about the esophagus, and several broken capillaries in his eyes. She suggested low doses of painkillers, an inhaler for emergencies, and plenty of rest—another luxury he could not afford, although he accepted the medications.

Hux stayed on the bridge for as long as he was physically able, only delegating his lead to the Lieutenant General when he felt his legs threatening to give way completely, making his way to his quarters after what was, quite possibly, the worst day of his life.

The General shed his uniform and tossed it down the laundry chute, stepping into the sonic for a moment before pulling on his robe and going to his drink cabinet, selecting an aged Chandrilan spirit he’d been saving for a truly awful occasion. Apparently, it would make one’s troubles melt away completely in a single glass—a claim Hux intended on testing immediately. He poured out a modest amount in a fine crystal glass he favored, swirling the sparkling liquid and appraising it from all angles. Going to sit on his sofa, he lifted the glass, toasting no one in particular—to the most miserable day he’d recently endured.

The glass was brought to his lips, the liquid not even reaching his tongue when the door to his quarters pinged with a failed code entry. Hux turned and stared at the door, his heart racing. A few seconds later, the door pinged another failed entry, followed by a heavy thud hitting the durasteel.

The door pinged again.

Hux turned and looked down at the glass in his hands, watching the liquid as the banging on the door got louder and angrier. He didn’t need to be gifted in the Force to know who it was.

The intercom sprang to life, Kylo’s seething voice spitting into the receiver, “open this door, Hux.”

The General remained where he was, lifting his glass with a shaking hand and finally taking that sip. Mm, it was strange, but not unpleasant by any means. There was a long moment of silence, then another loud bang on the door, making Hux startle. He wasn’t even allowed to end his night with a moment of peace—how perfectly fitting.

Kylo’s voice sounded again through the intercom, audibly clenching his teeth, “now.”

Another moment was allowed to pass, but Hux sat rigidly in place, scarcely daring to breathe.

“I said NOW,” came Kylo’s voice again, shouting and on the verge of breaking.

Like all storms, this one would pass, and Hux was patient.

Kylo had obviously figured out that Hux changed the passcode for his personal quarters, specifically to prevent Kylo coming and going as he pleased—which wouldn’t have been a strange occurrence even a cycle ago. Hux sat in deafening silence, sipping at his drink and bracing himself for the next barrage of banging—perhaps Kylo would force his door, or destroy it with his lightsaber. Would he kill Hux in his fit of untamable rage?

The intercom turned back on, but nothing was really coming through, just a bit of static as if someone were holding the button and not talking. It shut off after a moment. Hux felt his insides knotting up, wishing he could just go to sleep and have all of this be dealt with.

“Please, Hux.”

He hadn’t been expecting that, Kylo’s voice soft and emotional when he used the intercom again. Hux’s fingers tightened around his glass, his eyes burning. His refusal to interact should be answer enough, and indeed, the intercom went quiet and the banging stopped. Hux knocked back the rest of the glass with more painkillers, then went to bed.

One side was perfectly made, while the other side was a ruinous mess—Hux woke up earlier and made the bed, while Kylo chucked the covers back later on and lumbered to the refresher. Even Hux’s furniture was torturing him. He went about fluffing the pillow and fixing the mussed side of the bed, automatically returning to the other side to lie down, despite his obvious lack of a bedmate.

He shut the lights off, then simply lay in the dark.

Despite his injuries, despite his exhaustion—Hux couldn’t sleep. He tossed around in bed in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, but only ended up frustrated by Kylo’s scent on the other pillow. He may as well jettison this bed and order a new one. Eventually, he was able to drop off for a few short hours, though his dreams were tainted by nightmares about his father. Yet again, the old man had been proven right. Hux was nothing and would achieve nothing—all he worked for would just be taken from him by someone stronger.

* * *

At 0500 hours, Hux’s alarm cut the silence of the room, Hux opening his eyes and looking balefully at the chrono. He reached to silence it, gasping sharply as the motion shot agony through his ribs, slumping onto his back in the bed until the shock of pain ebbed. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if killing himself was a reasonable option. It wasn’t. The First Order had suffered heavy casualties and couldn’t afford to lose more of those in high command. That was the thought that got Hux out of bed and into the sonic, preparing for his shift.

Aside from the clear exhaustion in his face, the General looked no worse for wear when he went to the communications chamber to make his daily announcements. His hologram greeted the fleet as it did every cycle, drawling off a list of scheduled repairs and training exercises. Following that, he went to the bridge and relieved the Lieutenant General, taking his place in the chain of command and compartmentalizing the events of the previous cycle. There were damage reports to be done, salvage ships to be deployed, stormtroopers—

Hux’s lips pulled into a tight line. Phasma had always been the one he discussed stormtrooper training with, he’d need to vet and promote an appropriate replacement. Not that anyone could command respect the way the famed warrior from Parnassos could. The only way Hux could choke down the feeling of hopelessness threatening to consume him was by working, so that’s precisely what he did. By 1100 hours he was almost distracted by all the tasks needing to be done—and then the Supreme Leader called a meeting with high command.

What used to be the communications room they used to contact Snoke was being haphazardly remodeled into a throne room, Hux repulsed by the ostentatious display. Kylo had been a spoiled brat his entire life, of course he demanded a throne made with resources they couldn’t spare.

The members of high command, or what was left of them, arrived promptly, trying to avoid the active remodeling occurring around them. Kylo didn’t show up for several more minutes, but when he did, Hux’s jaw set hard, his fists tightening from where he kept them at parade rest. The Supreme Leader stalked past them, cape billowing behind as he went to his partially constructed throne, gesturing for the officers to step forward, presenting themselves before him.

“If any one of you refuses to accept my leadership, you are free to leave.”

Captain Peavey glanced at the others, curious if they would walk. If he was giving them the option... Foolishly, he turned and took a single step, only for a wave of Kylo’s hand to send him crashing hard into the nearest wall. A sickening crack was heard when Peavey made contact, dropping to the floor, motionless.

“Anyone else?” Kylo demanded, glaring darkly at all of them—though he avoided looking directly at Hux. The group of them stood stone still. “Good.”

Kylo went on a tangent about the past and the futility of replicating it, words that Hux had heard a dozen times before when they were discussing politics on the sofa, sipping whiskey and getting close. Kylo’s building frustrations could have been tamed with a kiss then. Not now. Briefly, Hux thought of the way Kylo had said “please” through his intercom, turning his eyes to the floor. What did Kylo expect from him?

The General ended up lost in thought, only to be snapped out of it by a cruel: “Am I boring you, General?”

Hux inhaled through his nostrils, steeling himself before glaring defiantly into Kylo’s eyes. He used to look at Snoke the same way.

“Of course not, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo was quiet a moment, meeting Hux’s eyes and finding them filled with something resembling hatred. After all of this, all he’d gained in his grandfather’s memory—and he was completely alone. Like Darth Vader before him, Kylo Ren would suffer alone, only his Padmé wasn’t dead. There was only one person left, and Kylo had nearly killed him in a fit of overwhelming rage and embarrassment.

Hux was right on Crait, he was always right, but with his mother nearly dying, Luke taunting him, and then Hux sneering in his ear like he was an idiot—it was too much. Kylo didn’t like being condescended to, but Hux didn’t appreciate Kylo’s disgusting misuse of military hardware. They’d both been strained to breaking, and it would shock no one that Kylo broke first.

With a fraction less command in his voice, Kylo tore his eyes from Hux’s glare and addressed high command. He demanded updates and progress and a lot of things he clearly didn’t know the purpose of. Hux typically took care of those details, but Kylo doubted that was an option. He didn’t meet Hux’s glare for the remainder of the impromptu meeting, dismissing them once he was satisfied he’d done enough demanding and scaremongering—leading through Snoke’s examples.

Kylo watched Hux turn and leave, as if he couldn’t be away from Kylo fast enough.

Whatever tenuous thing they had, Kylo had destroyed it, just as he seemed to do with everything. All the power in the galaxy, and he just wanted to stand around and brood. His mother used to tell him that time healed all wounds, but he hated waiting.


	2. When You Were Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one's here to see us  
> I'm kinda liking you too  
> No one's here to believe us  
> And I don't wanna share you

Kylo remembered when he was first assigned to the Finalizer, meeting the General and thinking what a shame it was that a man with such pleasing features was a stuck-up Imperial officer. Looking down his nose at Kylo and making stuffy noises whenever they argued. Kylo made a sport out of annoying Hux, just to see that pale face flush with color, making more of the irritated sounds Kylo found so endearing. It was a way to pass the time between missions with the Knights, not taking it seriously until he caught Hux watching him after a workout.

It hadn’t been hard to go from there—Kylo checked Hux’s publicly posted schedule and went to the training rooms at the same time, intent on showing off. He could fight a few training droids, take his shirt off, and watch the tightly wound General suffer. He just wasn’t prepared for the General’s exercises to consist of the man balancing on one foot while lifting the other leg up behind him as far as it would go, balancing and stretching. Hux insisted they were low-impact exercises that kept him fit without risking injury. Kylo showed up to tease Hux, but he was blindsided by the man out of uniform, contorting his body and showing flexibility that made the Force-user’s mouth dry. In a stupid attempt to talk to him, Kylo suggested they spar so that Hux could practice against an opponent. After all, what better way to stay sharp than to do a little sparring? Hux rejected the offer four times before relenting, only after Kylo promised there would be no Force abilities or lightsabers involved.

Hux had taken martial arts at the academy, excelling at being light on his feet and only attacking when it would be devastating, but he wasn’t used to the practice sword Kylo gave him. Blasters and electrified batons, sure, but not swords. Kylo got much closer than necessary to show Hux the proper manner to hold the hilt, sliding a hand down one of those toned thighs to show Hux how to bend slightly and balance his weight. And like magic, Hux’s face was going pink, but he didn’t seem irritated this time.

Hux put up a surprisingly good fight for one who was trying a new weapon for the first time, his skin shining with sweat and his chest heaving once they’d been at it for a while. Kylo thought he looked good like this, hair tousled, panting, overexerted—

Which was exactly what had Kylo pressing Hux up against the wall of the training room soon after, devouring his lips as Hux mewled sweetly, tangling his fingers in Kylo’s hair.

Kylo tried to invite himself into the General's bed that night, only to be gently rebuffed, spying a bashfulness in Hux's face he wasn't expecting. For a man who had offered to go down on Kylo moments ago, the hesitation was strange. Kylo couldn't quite put his finger on why. The answer came some time later, after weeks of them stealing away into unused meeting rooms to kiss and touch and bite, Hux proving his skill in fellatio on numerous occasions—Kylo suddenly understanding how he'd become a General in his 20s.

High command had always been full of dusty old men in need of replacing, ones who had been exiled in the Unknown Regions in the decades after the war. Much like Brendol, several of them had left their wives behind in the chaos. So an up-and-coming young officer with vibrant red hair and tempting green eyes could bat his eyelashes, licking his pink lips while making intimate offers—and all he asked was that he be added to the short list of those to be promoted.

While it made Kylo burn with jealousy that anyone had touched what he'd recently decided was his, there was no doubt that he was benefiting the most from Hux's previous experience, the knight nearly forgetting they weren't having proper sex when he was being swallowed down. But Hux was always in charge of these interactions, keeping his clothing intact and parting from Kylo once the knight had finished and was slumped against a wall, panting. It was like Hux could give, but had no idea how to receive.

That's when it hit him.

Hux didn't know how to receive because he'd never been on the receiving end, he'd used flirtation and seduction as tools to further his own interests, not as a way for two people to enjoy one another. That must be why Hux was always awkward when Kylo went to touch him, to reciprocate any of the things Hux had done to drive Kylo mad. But the sweet sounds Hux made when Kylo kissed him were just a taste of what he was certain Hux could be, suddenly determined.

Kylo insisted he had a surprise for Hux, asking for the entry code to his quarters to prepare it. Hux was hesitant as always, but acquiesced, spending the rest of his shift wondering what Kylo was doing. For once in his life, he left the bridge precisely when his shift ended.

Hux didn't know what to expect when he arrived, but Kylo was dressed down and a meal had been set out with glasses of wine, the General initially confused. Kylo knew he only consumed tea and dry rations, so clearly he deserved a proper dinner. Thin sliced bantha steaks and lightly poached Naboo pears—gentle enough not to make Hux ill with overly rich foods, but delicious all the same. Hux watched Kylo with suspicion, even as the knight pulled a chair out for him, explaining the ingredients and where they came from. Hux looked at the food like it was going to bite him, very carefully sampling small portions until he determined that they weren't tainted or otherwise inedible. In fact, the sweetness of the pears paired perfectly with the steak, half of his plate gone before Hux even realized.

"What's this about?" Hux finally asked, unable to comprehend why Kylo would go through the trouble of importing fresh ingredients when the rations were perfectly adequate.

Kylo's ears were a little pink, stirring the contents of his plate bashfully at the question.

"You're always working, and I've never seen you eat an actual meal before." Kylo shrugged his broad shoulders. "I thought you'd like it."

The explanation sounded stupid as soon as it came out of his mouth, Kylo convinced he was making a fool of himself by trying to impress Hux. But Hux didn't scoff or snort or make any of the derisive sounds he usually did when Kylo did something foolish, the redhead gently setting his utensils down and watching the other man from across the table.

"Oh," was all Hux could manage, unable to deny the swelling sensation in his chest.

Kylo didn't sense anything prickly from the other side of the table, allowing himself to glance up and take in the look on Hux's face. In that moment, Kylo realized that intimacy wasn't the only thing Hux had been denied. They finished the meal in comfortable silence, something about Hux's demeanor shifting.

Kylo's heart was racing as he enacted the next step of the surprise, inviting Hux from the table to the sofa, and bringing along the wine just in case. Turning Hux away from him when they sat, Kylo rest his large hands on the starched and padded shoulders of Hux's uniform, gently starting to massage the General's shoulders and the base of his neck. The redhead groaned aloud, his muscles always wound tight from the stressors of his position.

"You're going to wrinkle my uniform," Hux managed out as Kylo located a particularly stubborn knot at the apex of his shoulder-blade, Hux's arm tingling down to his fingertips. Kylo licked his lips, allowing his face to betray his apprehension as long as Hux wasn't looking at him, admiring the slightly exposed nape of that pale neck. Kylo moved to wrap one of his strong arms around Hux's middle, leaning in to breathe hotly against his ear, "then take it off."

Unable to help it, Hux shivered all the way up his spine, only emboldening Kylo, who slid his fingers down to feel for the clasp on Hux's officer's belt.

"Ren-" Hux breathed, his voice more affected than Kylo had ever heard it, the sound going right to his groin.

Still, he paused his advances, watching Hux's face in his periphery. The General's slim fingers slid up and into Kylo's hair, tipping his head to claim a kiss. Kylo had to actively stop himself from diving into the kiss full-force, just shoving Hux to the sofa and rutting up against him. Instead, he gently worked open Hux's belt before sliding his hand up between the magnetic catches of his top, slowly pulling the garment free. Once Hux had shifted to help shrug it off, Kylo simply chucked the uniform top aside, prompting one of those stuffy noises of disapproval the knight found so cute. Kylo pulled away to continue his task, even if it was torture to do so. Hux's shoulders were so trim without the padding, his undershirt leaving them mostly exposed when Kylo set his hands back over them, using his thumbs to work at the tension he'd felt before. Hux's breath hitched slightly, making a soft sound as Kylo's hands worked out a stubborn knot at the base of his neck, Kylo gnawing on his lower lip as a deterrent to himself. Even the warmth of Hux's skin under his hands was driving him mad, Kylo sliding his fingers under the straps of the undershirt to touch Hux as directly as he could, rough palms sliding over bare shoulders. Hux shivered again.

"Are you cold?" Kylo teased in a low voice, brushing one of his fingers up the side of Hux's neck, the General's head tipping to the side to encourage the touching.

Hux wet his lips with his tongue, pulling himself partially out of the trance Kylo had put him in.

"Quite the opposite, actually."

Kylo worked to steady his breathing, hoping that he was reading Hux's signals correctly as he slid one hand down Hux's stomach, pulling at the undershirt tucked into his trousers. He waited for Hux to chastise him, but Hux shifted so it could be pulled over his head more easily, goosebumps prickling over his arms.

"It would be a shame if you were to overheat, General." Kylo managed out in as even a tone as he could, briefly inhaling the scent of the undershirt before chucking it aside with the uniform top.

Hux smelled clean, like regulation soaps and detergents—different than how he'd been in the training rooms, sweaty and tugging Kylo closer, biting at his lips. Just the thought of it had the knight groaning slightly, his pants tightening almost to discomfort. The noise didn't go unnoticed, Hux glancing over his shoulder to see an absolutely wrecked look in Kylo's eyes, startling him with its intensity.

The redhead shifted, licking his lips while guiding Kylo to lean against the blue arm of the sofa, carefully moving closer and straddling the knight's thighs. This was as exposed as Hux had ever been during their liaisons, cupping Kylo's face and leaning to kiss him deeply. Kylo pressed into the kiss hard, an arm possessively wrapping around Hux's bared middle, drawing him closer. Kylo's free hand went to that newly exposed chest, brushing his thumb over one of Hux's small pink nipples, resisting the immediate urge to pinch them. Hux gasped into the kiss, his hips jumping at the stimulation, a conspicuous bulge brushing Kylo's abdomen. Kylo groaned, so hard he was getting dizzy—every single thing Hux did was turning him on. He swore he'd never recover if Hux ended up rejecting him, but he just couldn't take this pace anymore—pulling away from the kiss so he could dip his head down, grabbing Hux by the hips and dragging his tongue over that perked nipple. The sound Hux made was _almost_ a moan, but mostly a gasp, just on the cusp of the sweet noises Kylo wanted more of. The knight worried at the nipple gently with his teeth, lifting his fingers to tease the other, when Hux's body began to tremble from top to bottom. Glancing up, Hux was biting his lip, desperately working to stop the sounds Kylo was so desperate for. He reached up, cupping Hux's face and drawing his thumb over the General's pretty mouth.

"Don't do that- I want to hear you."

Hux looked down to meet Kylo's eyes, his own green eyes hazed over with lust, gazing at Kylo in a way that made Kylo want him immediately and _badly_. Kylo wanted to _claim_ him. No one else could have Hux like this, he'd decided, this version of Hux belonged to him alone. Emboldened by the ruined way Hux was watching him, plus the untenable aching of his erection, Kylo pulled Hux down into a lingering kiss—carefully reaching to palm over Hux's crotch, feeling the shape of him through the fabric. Hux whined into Kylo's mouth, his hips jerking at the dulled sensation of Kylo's large hand through the fabric, his arms twining around the knight's shoulders. Every one of Hux's signals told him to continue, Kylo carefully unfastening the uniform trousers, palming at Hux's cock through his regulation undergarments. Hux whined again, more desperation in the sound than before. Kylo carefully stroked him a few moments before reaching for the waistband, earning his first proper moan from Hux as his fingers curved around the flesh, smearing precome around the tip with his thumb.

"R-Ren—" Hux stuttered, Kylo worried he'd gone too far.

"Hux?" Kylo responded, stilling the motions of his hand, but not removing it—which was when Hux began thrusting his hips into Kylo's hand, sweet sounds falling more freely from his lips. Kylo thought he would faint if Hux got any more desirable than he was in this moment, fucking Kylo's fist and moaning for him, the redhead stuttering out a "Ren" every few thrusts.

Kylo couldn't take it anymore, "I want you."

His voice was ragged with desire, so completely overwhelmed by how perfect the man in his lap was. To make his intentions clear, he slipped a hand down the back of Hux's loosened trousers, nudging his entrance with a large finger. Hux gasped sharply, the gentle touch awakening a desire he'd been intentionally burying for years. He stilled the motions of his hips, taking a moment to consider his options—while Kylo felt slight panic when Hux didn't immediately respond in the affirmative.

"I'm-" Hux began, his face flushing a darker shade of red.

Kylo felt his stomach sink, that had been the threshold, hadn't it? Hux was going to politely ask him to leave and he'd be stuck with the worst blue balls of his life.

"I would be disappointing," Hux finally managed out, not quite meeting Kylo's eyes. "I'm lacking in that... specific experience."

Kylo felt his cock twitch with want, momentarily speechless. How could Hux possibly think he'd be disappointing when Kylo was this wrecked, with all of his clothing still intact? Kylo had fooled around more than a few times, but this was the first time he was so hard he could barely form sentences. So, it took him a moment to finally speak again.

"I have never wanted anyone as badly as I want you right now." Kylo declared, deathly serious.

He responded to the confused look in Hux's eyes by pulling one of those slim hands down, placing it over the painful bulge at his crotch, hissing from even that small sensation. Hux wasn't inherently opposed to the idea of intercourse, he just... hadn't. He couldn't find the time or the privacy when Brendol was alive, and then he was the General and leisure time was a thing of the past. After considering for what felt to Kylo like an hour, Hux moved out of Kylo's lap, standing up. Kylo swore in his own head, until Hux reached to take his hand, tugging him along toward the bedroom. Once again, Kylo focused all his energy into not fainting from the lack of blood in his head, feeling the apprehension wafting off of Hux—it was hard to ignore.

As Kylo anticipated, Hux's bedroom was sterile and military, something Kylo intended on cheerfully disrupting. Before Hux could go sit nervously on the bed, Kylo caught his wrist, pulling him back and placing those usually deft fingers on the tie of Kylo's casual robe top. He didn't want Hux to be nervous, he wanted to feel their bodies in synchronicity. Hux was calmed by the linear nature of the task, as Kylo suspected he would be. The knight found Hux's peculiarities charming, watching his face with something akin to adoration. Hux glanced up once the knot was undone, about to slide the garment from Kylo's shoulders when he caught that look. Hux had never been looked at the way Kylo was looking at him right now, frozen in place by the warmth in those dark eyes—Hux only just noticed they were actually starbursts of different browns, not the black they often seemed when Kylo scowled.

He... he didn't know what to do. Why was Kylo looking at him like that?

Kylo felt Hux's distress, leaning in to kiss him—another distraction. Again, Hux was relieved by the diversion, overwhelmed by so many new things in such a short time.

Kylo felt a flare of anger in his gut, anger for all the people in Hux's life who had failed him—they had that in common. They needed one another.

With that in mind, Kylo smoothly scooped Hux up into his arms, the redhead gasping at how effortlessly he was lifted. This was slightly more familiar territory, Hux laying a hand on Kylo's slightly exposed chest, parting the fabric to admire the knight's physique. Kylo gently deposited Hux in the bed, shucking off the top and dropping it, only flexing a little when he moved to crawl over Hux, kissing his neck. Hux's slim hands moved to twine around Kylo's strong shoulders, the redhead cooing sweetly at the sensation of lips and teeth at his neck. Kylo's body felt good on top of him, Hux realized, tucking his nose against Kylo's hair and inhaling. Kylo always smelled like ash and some kind of shampoo that was absolutely not regulation, something Hux had grown a bit fond of over these past several weeks. He'd assumed this was some kind of fling to pass the time, but now Hux wasn't so sure. Kylo took his time worshiping Hux's body, dragging his lips over that trim chest and properly laying his mouth against both of those sensitive pink nubs, testing what Hux seemed to enjoy the most. On a hunch, he sucked one of Hux's nipples red and swollen, tugging at it with his teeth. Hux's hips jumped sharply, crying out much louder this time, his breathing starting to stutter some. Kylo needed to have his mouth on every inch of Hux's body, that was just made absolutely certain, forcing himself to pull away so he could attempt to remove Hux's boots.

Only it couldn't be that easy.

Kylo took hold of one polished boot, giving it a useless tug, scowling at it, and then tugging again. Hux hid a laugh behind his hand, Kylo's ears turning red with embarrassment—of course he had to end up making a fool of himself.

Hux propped himself up on his elbows, looking down and instructing the large man struggling with good haberdashery, "from the heel, darling."

Hux didn't even realize he'd said it, but Kylo hid a dopey look on his face as he grabbed from the heel and worked the boot off properly. The other one came off easier, and he at least had the sense not to chuck the boots, setting them upright so as not to scuff on the floor. Hux was pleased by the gesture to the point where Kylo could sense it just by being close to him, it made Kylo want to do it again. Pleasing Hux was going to lead to him doing things like folding clothes and brushing his hair, wasn't it? He wanted to pout, but Hux's eyes were shining, still grinning from Kylo's brief feud with his boots.

Kylo had never seen Hux smile before.

Instead of gazing at Hux like he were a literal angel from Deep Space, Kylo crawled back over him for a kiss, still able to feel Hux's grin against his mouth.

He couldn't handle the overwhelming sense that maybe Hux could accept him. Accept Kylo Ren. Kylo's parents wanted him to be normal, his uncle wanted him to be a better Jedi, Snoke demanded perfection from his training at every turn—he never felt like he was enough. But Hux had never known anything but Kylo as he was right now. He wasn't Ben Solo or Vader's failing legacy—he was Kylo Ren. That was all. Hux knew firsthand how out of control Kylo could become in his rage, but he was developing the uncanny ability to pull Kylo out of his fits. Hux was almost painfully logical at times, but having a clear plan mapped out for him did make Kylo feel more confident that they would succeed, that Hux had the temperament and the knowledge to truly lead the First Order to total victory.

All that skill and here he was, soft and affectionate, kissing Kylo with a smile on his face.

Kylo gently moved one hand to start sliding Hux's trousers off, an act that revived some of the apprehension Hux felt, but still reached to help, tugging his own underwear off with them. With the garments kicked off, Hux was almost completely bare underneath Kylo—save for Hux's military tags and what looked to be small garters holding up his socks. Kylo kind of liked them, drawing back to fully admire what he'd uncovered. Hux was slender without all the padding of the uniform, his limbs toned, with a small soft spot at his abdomen. His skin was pale all over, save for a few oddly placed freckles, a few of which Kylo leaned to kiss. Hux was still visibly apprehensive—but not for the reason Kylo thought, unable to keep himself completely out of Hux's head when they were so, so close. Hux anticipated scorn, raised by a man who constantly told Hux he was too skinny, too pathetic. Kylo wasn't sure what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of—sliding his large hands up and over Hux's hips, caressing over his stomach and chest, brushing the fingers of one hand fondly against Hux's cheek.

"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

Hux was visibly startled by the declaration, but there was no mistaking what Kylo had just said to him. His face went pink, the embarrassed flush tinting his chest, something that Kylo found he was really enjoying. Feeling like he'd sufficiently seduced the object of his desires, he looked around a bit.

"So, do you... have anything to use, or..?" Kylo had failed to consider that part until he got here, feeling kind of foolish as Hux puzzled out what he was talking about. Once the realization had dawned on Hux, his blush only got darker.

"T-There's a drawer in the side table."

Kylo abruptly burned with jealousy. Who else had been here that Hux needed—and he opened the drawer. Oh. A tidy collection of plugs, synthetic phalli, some kind of rubber ring, a belt, and the promised lubricant. Kylo's eyebrows lifted at the discovery, Hux becoming visibly mortified. Kylo was extremely pleased by the thought of Hux pleasuring himself on those cold nights in space, making choked little sounds and bringing himself off with one of those alien looking toys stretching him open. The knight would absolutely be keeping this in mind, but he just grabbed the lubricant in the meantime, shutting the drawer. Hux was relieved that Kylo hadn't made a comment, but the look on his face was quite enough to make Hux feel like some kind of sexual deviant. If only he knew what he was getting into with Kylo, he wouldn't have been concerned in the slightest.

Kylo couldn't help leering at Hux as he applied lubricant to his fingers, placing a hand under Hux's thigh and lifting it against Hux's chest—he already knew the redhead was flexible. Hux's heart was racing, but he was soon distracted by the chill of the lubricant rubbing against his entrance, his mouth dropping open in a soundless gasp. Kylo watched Hux carefully, nudging and prodding to help slick him up, before slowly sinking his middle finger inside. Hux stuttered on a gasp, lightly clenching around Kylo's finger before willing himself to relax, gazing down at the hand between his thighs. Kylo worked slow, able to tell right away that Hux didn't typically do this—even if he had the supplies. Was he really that busy? The intimacy of the situation and the sheer amount of skin touching meant that Hux's thoughts were impossible to ignore, thinking loudly about not being a disappointment—thoughts too coherent for someone meant to be enjoying themselves. So Kylo tried harder, feeling around, but not quite hitting the right depth with one finger. He started introducing the second—when Hux’s breath hitched.

“You alright?”

Hux didn’t have words, so he just nodded emphatically, reaching down with trembling hands to grab his knees, pulling them up against his chest. Kylo could better appreciate the way his fingers looked as they disappeared into Hux, his breath ragged.

“You look so kriffing good like this,” Kylo breathed, taking in the full sight of Hux spreading himself open for Kylo, his red hair scattering across the bedspread.

Hux still didn’t understand Kylo’s insistence that he was attractive, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue, not when every time he opened his mouth he moaned. Kylo started pumping his fingers in earnest, making Hux’s head tip back against the bed, gasping. After working him open a bit more, Kylo started probing around again, crooking his fingers and rubbing until Hux cried out sharply, his toes curling.

Kylo smirked at him, “oh?”

Hux huffed, attempting to scowl at Kylo, only for the knight to rub against the same spot. Hux moaned sweetly, his hips twitching as Kylo stimulated his prostate from the inside, the knight resting his large thumb against Hux’s perineum and pressing gently. Hux’s fingers were slipping under his knees, readjusting his grip as a sheen of sweat appeared across his chest. That was closer to the Hux he was looking for, Kylo drinking in the sight of Hux before him, moaning and squirming. Kylo’s moving fingers were starting to make a wet sound as he moved them, licking his dry lips before daring to attempt a third finger.

“I-I can’t—“ Hux gasped, certain he couldn’t take a single finger more. Kylo’s hands were larger than his own, and the difference was more apparent than ever.

“Yes, you can,” Kylo husked, his voice nearly a growl. “I know you can. Just relax, babe.”

Hux blushed at the term of endearment, distracted enough to not immediately protest the third finger Kylo was starting to work into him. The stretch was more pronounced, Hux gasping some, to which Kylo slowed his progress, letting Hux’s body adjust. As Kylo slowed down, Hux was able to gaze up at the other man, his chest heaving. Kylo was watching Hux with his dark eyes, visibly in awe of Hux and the way he’d melted into Kylo’s touch. Even twelve hours ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed that he would be with Hux like this. But now, he was working three of his fingers into Hux, making the redhead’s mouth drop open, a pathetic sound stuttering out of him as Kylo tested the limits of his body. Hux swore he couldn’t do it, but Kylo was proving him wrong, his face burning.

Kylo was achingly hard, taking one of Hux’s hands from under his knees, resting it at his crotch again. The knight made a truly pathetic sound at the touch, Hux taking a moment to get his head on straight before moving that hand to pull at the clasp of Kylo’s pants. Kylo was more than happy to help Hux shed them off once he was given a proper signal, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as his cock was freed—slapping obscenely against Hux’s thigh. The General was well aware of Kylo’s size, but it was more relevant now, his heart skipping a beat. Just having his pants open was a massive relief, Kylo taking a moment to breathe while Hux gaped at the comparison, their shafts close enough together to make Hux self-conscious about his size. Kylo wasn’t having that, withdrawing his fingers one by one as a distraction. Kylo slicked more of the lubricant over his cock, working very hard to control the pace of his breathing.

It was Kylo’s turn to be apprehensive, hoping that he didn’t finish the second he tried to enter Hux, trying to stay focused on his task. Hux was opened and laying before him, but he wouldn’t take Hux over the edge of the bed, he wanted to get closer. Kylo kicked his pants off, shifting Hux closer to the middle of the bed before crawling on top of him, kissing up Hux’s body. Kylo eventually met Hux’s eyes, leaning to kiss him softly, a gesture that Hux sighed sweetly into. While he warmed Hux up with the kiss, Kylo reached to guide his cock against Hux’s hole, exhaling heavily at the slight contact. Hux looked up at Kylo with desire in his eyes, only the faintest hint of apprehension left in his mind.

“Um- You ready?” Kylo asked, feeling like it sounded dumb, but Hux seemed to appreciate the question, swallowing some, “y-yeah.”

Kylo carefully applied pressure behind his hips, feeling the head of his cock sink into Hux, the redhead gasping aloud and turning to hide his face against the sheets. Kylo struggled to keep his pace slow, pulling back out at the first sign of resistance, before pushing back in to test how much Hux could take. The first few thrusts stung, Hux gritting his teeth as he willed his body to relax around the intrusion. Kylo worried he was pushing too hard, but every thrust was a little easier, and Hux made an absolutely delicious sound once Kylo was halfway buried in him.

For Hux, the sensation of being penetrated was not foreign. He’d pleasured himself for utilitarian purposes, but having a Kylo on top of him, groaning while working deeper inside him with every motion—Hux couldn’t believe he’d ever avoided this before. Kylo struggled to keep the pace slow, applying a bit more lubricant when he worried it might be too much, pulling out before pressing back in—the renewed slickness making Hux’s spine arch against the bed, nearly taking Kylo to the hilt.

“S-Stars—“ Hux gasped, finally reaching to twine his arms around Kylo’s strong shoulders, holding him close.

The sensation was similar, but not at all the same. If anything, this was phenomenally better. Hux’s toys couldn’t hold him the way way Kylo was, nor could they stretch him like this—feeling Kylo’s pulse throbbing through his cock as he worked it into Hux. When Kylo was certain his thrusts had become smooth enough, he began to fuck Hux properly, holding his hips and pounding into him with steadily building intensity. Hux reacted instantly to the increasing pace, choking on a moan as he clung to Kylo for dear life.

“Is that good, babe?” Kylo confirmed, growling against Hux’s ear as the redhead clung to him, his moans sounding more ruined as the thrusts went smoother.

“H-Hahh— I-It’s so good—don’t stop, don’t stop. Please, please-“

Kylo almost came on the spot, listening to that sweet voice beg for more. He gripped those trim hips tight, maneuvering Hux’s long legs to drape over his shoulders, folding the redhead in half before thrusting into him. Hard. The sound Hux made was more like a wail, loud and unrestrained. Kylo could feel himself straining, doing his best to only take care of Hux—but he looked and sounded so damn good. How was he supposed to resist?

Kylo had to stop concerning himself with who came first, hunching over Hux and devouring his mouth in a kiss, freeing one still somewhat slick hand to jerk at Hux’s pretty pink cock. The redhead was beyond overstimulated, his mind having gone blank as he was worked so thoroughly. Kylo couldn’t handle it anymore, fucking into Hux hard and fast, while still dedicating one hand to jerking Hux off. Hux was getting close, moaning thickly as he squeezed around Kylo’s cock. That squeeze alone made sparks ignite behind Kylo’s eyes, the knight convinced he couldn’t handle it a moment more—when Hux’s body started to tremble, his voice even louder and sweeter.

“Kylo—“ Hux gasped, moaning his name so sweetly, Kylo’s hips stuttered.

Hux had never used that name before, the knight burying himself in Hux and groaning hard as he came. The redhead made a pleased noise of surprise when he felt Kylo spilling inside him, the sensation unfamiliar but... definitely not unpleasant. Not when Kylo was almost growling in pleasure above him, gazing at Hux like the most desirable treasure in the galaxy.

Kylo, bless him, continued working to please Hux, even as he felt a wave of satisfaction crash over him from long awaited relief. Thankfully, Hux didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, still holding Kylo tightly as his hips jerked into that large, attentive hand. It didn’t take much longer for Hux’s breath to quicken, his hips jerking into Kylo’s hand while his voice got sweeter and louder. Kylo gripped him slightly tighter, thrusting into Hux a few more times before he started flagging. Hux’s hips jerked sharply, the redhead crying out loudly as his cock pulsed in Kylo’s fingers, spattering come across his abdomen. Kylo carefully jerked him through it, until Hux’s spine had stopped arching off of the bed, sucking in a breath and slumping back into the sheets.

For a long few moments, they lingered, catching their breath. Kylo kissed Hux as gently as he could, starting to slowly pull back. Sitting back up like this, Kylo could admire Hux’s flushed body, shining with sweat and stained with come. He looked nothing like the stern man who paced the bridge with perfect posture, a permanent scowl set on his features. Kylo liked this Hux considerably better, carefully sliding himself out of Hux with a wet sound. Hux’s breath hitched at the sensation, while Kylo was transfixed. He reached to tug at Hux’s rim with his thumb, just to admire his own handiwork and to watch his come ooze out of Hux. His cock throbbed with attempted interest, but Kylo was spent.

Not doing anything remotely close to cleaning up, Kylo dropped into the bed beside Hux, tugging the other man in close to his chest. He was going to hold Hux through the night, he’d decided. Thankfully, Hux was too exhausted and satisfied to care, tucking himself against Kylo’s chest.

Hux had never slept as soundly as he did that night, his mind free of nightmares, soothed by the steady sound of Kylo’s breathing beside him. Whenever Hux shivered in the night, Kylo seemed to automatically pull him closer, warming him perfectly.

* * *

Without thinking too hard about the reason, Hux was becoming steadily more and more efficient. He ended his shifts when he was supposed to, he was thoroughly dicked down, and then he got a full eight hours of sleep. Overall, both of their jagged personalities had started rounding at the edges. Hux was able to talk Kylo down from needless violence, while Kylo could drag Hux away from work when he was obsessing far too much. It worked for the both of them.

Over time, Hux was unable to picture a future without Kylo in it, realizing just how invested he was when Starkiller Base fell. His beloved was bleeding out in the snow, put there by filthy rebels. Hux had suggested reconstructive surgery and bacta—but Kylo wore the scars like a reminder of his own failings, often staring at himself in the mirror to allow his new appearance to sink in. Hux wished he wouldn’t be so morose about it, doing his best to be a distraction.

But Snoke was becoming an issue. He’d worked specifically to stoke competition between the two, but it had stopped working.

Why?


	3. Fraying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> Maybe I'm foolish  
> Maybe I'm blind  
> Thinking I can see through this  
> And see what's behind  
> 

After the absolutely humiliating fall of Starkiller Base, Kylo and Hux returned to the Finalizer to lick their wounds—only Hux had no such luxury. The Resistance was evacuating the base on D’Qar when the First Order fleet arrived, Hux gazing smugly out the transparisteel. Despite his mounting exhaustion over the past few cycles, Hux could almost taste total victory.

Captain Peavey was commanded to contact Captain Canady of the Fulminatrix, summoning the Star Dreadnought to make quick work of the fleeing shuttles coming from the surface of D’Qar. Hux had no doubts whatsoever that he would be enjoying celebratory tea in his quarters later on, kissing his knight and telling him how his wounds had been avenged.

Anyone who harmed that which belonged to Hux would suffer greatly.

But he was snapped out of his reverie by one of his officers calling for his attention, glancing at the radar image over her shoulder and spying a light fighter approaching the fleet… alone. The pilot was either very brave, very stupid, or outright suicidal. Hux snorted at the tiny fighter, about to continue overseeing the destruction of D’Qar—when a familiar voice came through as a transmission.

Commander Poe Dameron—the disgusting Resistance slime that led the attack against his beloved Starkiller Base, destroying her in her prime. Hux had barely even begun to enjoy the fruits of his years of planning, swallowing back a wave of fury. There was no need to be angry, the Resistance would fall and that little X-Wing would be reduced to scrap metal and human remains in short order. Hux would make sure of that.

The General wore a haughty expression as he turned heel and stood at the center of the bridge, allowing the transmission and making an impassioned speech about the futility of the Resistance’s efforts against the First Order—making an underhanded comment against General Organa by referring to her as Princess. He was rather proud of that one.

But while Hux was posturing, Captain Canady was standing by, itching to take out the tiny ship and be done with it. The young General had a penchant for dramatic speeches, occasionally to excess. War rallies, daily announcements—fine, but in the midst of a major engagement with the enemy? They were wasting time.

Peavey was grinding his teeth slightly, realizing that no one else had the gall to tell Hux he was making an absolute ass of himself. When the redhead returned to the transparisteel, the aging officer leaned and spoke softly, as if he were happy to defer to Hux and protect his dignity—or whatever would be left once he realized. It would make Peavey’s plans to succeed Hux seem less suspicious, even if fratricide among officers was an unspoken part of the job.

“I believe he’s tooling with you, sir.”

The General had never been one to fully appreciate humor, just barely stopping himself openly blushing from embarrassment on the bridge in front of all his senior officers. _Kriff_ , he was going to need a drink tonight. Maybe he’d ask Kylo for a massage—he could feel his shoulders and lower back tensing in his efforts to maintain self-control.

Peavey made a face at Hux’s turned back, wondering how this bastard had ever climbed so high when he was so clearly daft.

Poe was intentionally distracting him, the pilot hitting below the belt and mentioning Hux’s mother—Peavey had to exert considerable effort not to laugh, though he did hide a smirk behind Hux’s back as the General angrily commanded his officers to take out the X-Wing.

Poe’s distraction gave him the time to slingshot himself to the surface of the dreadnought, psyching himself up before starting to weave through the surface structures, taking out the cannons one by one. Hux felt his expression fall as he realized the strategy, gritting his teeth and patching himself through to the dreadnought to shout orders, visibly embarrassed and agitated.

Poe knew he was too close to the dreadnought for Hux to dare try the ventral or surface cannons from the Finalizer—figuring the General loved his toys too much to dare damaging something with the raw destructive power of the dreadnought. Indeed, Hux was protective of the fleet, he hated seeing a good ship go down.

With the fiasco playing out on top of the dreadnought, Hux felt himself sweating under his uniform, his expression stiff as he tried not to betray his apprehension. There was finally good news when Canady’s crew had the sense to incinerate the Resistance base. Having a direct hit confirmed was a massive relief—he’d send a team to pick through the rubble, but there were little ships still evacuating, and no dreadnought cannons to take them out.

Hux shuddered at the thought of having to call upon the Supremacy to use its exceptional weapons systems, hoping very dearly not for Snoke to have to get directly involved. Hux could handle this. He’d made a misstep in allowing the pilot to bait him, but they had half a dozen TIE Fighters after a single ship.

They’d get him.

Unless the ship got away, against all odds, which it did.

Hux ground his molars together, sincerely hoping that Poe Dameron would suffer a long and unforgiving end at Hux’s own hand. As far as Hux was concerned, Poe was a migraine given physical form, an opinion coming from a man who managed the patience for Kylo Ren.

Resistance bombers arrived in a strangely bold move for General Organa, Hux a bit surprised by her tactics while giving the order to engage, focused on the firefight and sincerely hoping Canady was directing his crew properly while Hux was otherwise busy. The General was barking orders across the bridge at top speed, directing each squadron of TIE Fighters in a series of overlapping strategies meant to throw off the light craft while still taking shots at the bombers. To his massive relief, all the bombers were decimated in short order—all but one, and it was getting dangerously close.

Once a direct hit on the cockpit of the bomber had been confirmed, Hux released the tense breath he’d been holding, knowing it was only a matter of time before the last bomber crumbled to pieces. Indeed, the engines had begun exploding, but not before the bombs began dropping. The final bomber was destroyed, but Hux was forced to watch as the dreadnought was slowly consumed by fire, breaking apart into the void of space.

His heart was in his stomach, utterly speechless. Brendol always used to go on tangents about how the Rebels just got lucky one too many times, Cadet Hux assuming his father and the others were just idiots who couldn’t lead. Now, he was really feeling the sting of his father’s memory. He’d been right after all.

Hux was visibly shaken when his communications officer called for his attention, telling him that Snoke was making contact. Of course he was.

No, he’d suffered a massive embarrassment in front of his entire team of bridge officers, he wasn’t going to let Snoke further degrade him in public, declaring he’d accept the communique in his chambers. At least then he could collect himself and maybe have a small drink before showing his face on the bridge again, but Snoke’s holographic visage popped up in front of him, far oversized and too loud, as if the old man intended to make Hux feel as small and inadequate as possible.

This wasn’t going to go well, Hux struggling to compose himself and explain the situation as steadily as he could—

Snoke threw Hux’s feet out from under him in front of his officers, his jaw hitting the floor hard, biting down on the inside of his cheek enough to start bleeding badly. Snoke dragged Hux around for his amusement, finally allowing the shaken man to get to his knees. The redhead had been beaten and thrown around before, but this specific type of abuse was definitely a first from Snoke—only solidifying Hux’s desires to see the man overthrown and replaced, glaring into the hologram.

Hux tasted blood in his mouth, forcing calm on himself as he often did when Brendol had kicked him one too many times, talking the man down to prevent fatal damage from being done. The tactic had somewhat worked before, and it proved itself effective here, Hux feeling blood trickling down his chin as he explained his strategy. Hyperspace tracking had been under development for thirty years, and it was finally ready for use in the field, Hux picking himself up off the floor once Snoke had been placated.

He could feel his hair coming undone and his mouth filling with blood, delegating Peavey to oversee the hyperspace tracker before swiftly heading off, thoroughly demoralized.

When Hux returned to his room, it was a relief to see that Kylo had just recently rolled out of bed, stark nude and getting water. Even though he was still half asleep, Kylo could sense the heavy feeling of failure draped over Hux’s presence, glancing over and startling fully awake as he saw the blood dripping from Hux’s chin.

Kylo’s brand of affection felt wonderful right now, the knight making grand declarations of murdering those responsible, while also using the rough pad of his thumb to wipe the blood from Hux’s face. Not knowing exactly what to do with it, Kylo just licked it from his thumb. Coppery.

“You’re disgusting.” Hux made one of the stuffy noises Kylo liked so much, but it was distinctly fond, Hux looking at him with visible relief in his eyes.

“You like it,” Kylo retorted, grinning both at teasing Hux and being able to bring him comfort—although he still had no idea what happened.

Hux went about the process of changing out of his entire uniform and applying bacta to the bitten spot at the inside of his cheek, venting about the first several hours of his shift already being horrific. The topic of Snoke was approached more gently, Hux always uncertain of Kylo’s reaction. Telling Kylo of Snoke’s unnecessary misuse of his powers, the knight went quiet, visibly trying to digest the information.

Snoke had practically tortured Kylo in all the years of his training, telling him that pain could be used to fuel his connection to the Dark Side. Hux had made passing remarks about his father being abusive and better off for being dead, a topic which always made Kylo burn with anger. More than once, Kylo woke in the night as he sensed distress, using a nearly imperceptible amount of his powers to help bring calm to Hux’s mind. As time passed, Hux had nearly stopped having night terrors altogether. Brendol Hux had clearly been a despicable, cowardly man, and Kylo was a little disappointed to have had nothing to do with his untimely demise. Still, he did find it incredibly attractive how underhanded Hux could be.

Kylo could handle Snoke’s abuse, it was a part of his training, but doing it to Hux? His mind seemed to be constantly in a state of conflict, this new information only adding to the tempest. In the privacy of their room, Hux sourly talked about Snoke’s poor leadership and how much better a job he could do. It wasn’t helping Kylo’s uncertainty—and then both of their comms went off simultaneously.

They were being summoned to the Supremacy to meet with Snoke. In person.

Hux still needed a fresh uniform and to fix his hair, Kylo dealing with his own internal conflict in the best way he knew how—by convincing Hux to join him for a “quick” shower.

Hux was incredibly relieved by the distraction, soon pinned against the wall of the shower with his long legs wrapped around Kylo’s hips, moaning noisily as the knight worked out his frustrations by pounding relentlessly into the General. It was a huge relief for Hux, allowing his mind to temporarily go blank and enjoy the way Kylo snarled against his ear, calling him a purebred Imperial slut, made specifically for Kylo.

Hux enjoyed that possessive streak, choking on a moan when Kylo used the Force to make it seem like he had infinite hands, stroking all over Hux’s body and making him tremble. By the time he finally came between their abdomens, Hux could feel that his body was considerably more relaxed, tipping his head back against the wall of the shower and catching his breath—while a dense groan of pleasure came from the man holding him, feeling Kylo spilling inside him. Hux had grown extremely fond of the sensation, knowing he’d been the one to bring his lover to such heights of pleasure, cupping his face and kissing him deeply as they lingered in post-coital bliss.

But it was only a distraction, and Hux had to consider how he was going to reassure Snoke of his use as he showered properly, knowing that the loss of the dreadnought had been a shameful display. Would this, combined with the loss of Starkiller Base, be the final failure he was allowed before the aged creature put him down?

Kylo, who was still nuzzling at Hux's neck and kissing his shoulders, was troubled by the concerns in Hux's mind, pausing his affections. 

"He wouldn't dare," Kylo declared suddenly, Hux scowling at Kylo over his shoulder. "I wouldn't let him."

"You  _know_ I don't appreciate you reading my thoughts, Ren."

Kylo huffed out a sigh—Hux was always so sweet and agreeable when they were actively having sex, but now his head was full of work and worries again. The knight reassured himself that Snoke's reprimands were harsh, but he wouldn't have Hux put down when he'd personally overseen so much of the war.

Would he?

Hux went breezing around his rooms once he was done bathing, fixing his hair and pulling on a fresh uniform. Meanwhile, Kylo was meditating slightly under the warm spray of the shower, trying to quiet the niggling little thought in the back of his mind that said Hux might be right about Snoke. Things were just tense. There was nothing to worry about. If all went well, the Resistance would be gone by the time he and Hux turned in for the night.

Since Kylo was apparently zoning out in the shower, Hux left first, boarding a shuttle and heading for the Supremacy. Kylo followed a short time later, pulling on his helmet to maintain his enigmatic persona around the crew, able to relax his expression as he watched officers stiffen up and salute at the sight of him. Hux had an almost uncanny ability to keep his expression hard and cold against opposition, while Kylo was more expressive, too much to keep it contained without the privacy of his mask.

Snoke was dismissing Hux as Kylo arrived, sounding pleased by Hux's explanations and plans—just as Kylo had hoped. He grinned a little at Hux under the mask, approaching the throne and kneeling before his master, only for the wizened creature to claim it was easy to manipulate Hux into doing his bidding. Snoke did this often, working to drive a wedge between them at every turn, Kylo starting to ignore it as it continued. The Supreme Leader sensed this, rising and starting to drone on about what high hopes he'd had for the young Ben Solo he'd found, training a true heir to Lord Vader. Only, Snoke wasn't praising his apprentice, shaming him soundly. Kylo's heart sank, looking up at Snoke with apprehension hidden behind his mask. Kylo swore he’d done all he could, that he’d given his life to the Dark Side, to Snoke—what more could he possibly want?

The knight hesitated when commanded to remove his helmet, unable to conceal the look of dejection on his damaged features as he did so, his eyes on the floor. The disgust emanating from Snoke was both obvious and overpowering, shaming him for his lack of balance, for being bested by Rey, for allowing Starkiller Base to fall—

Kylo snapped at his master in anger, arguing with words that were not his own. Snoke heard Hux's calm logic in the shouting, even if there was a clear snarl in Kylo's tone. Snoke's young apprentice had been swayed by another, his focus notably shifting elsewhere. Kylo was a fool if he thought Snoke was unaware of his fraternizing with the General. Casually, Snoke mused that perhaps General Hux had outlived his usefulness, clearly ambitious beyond his station.

Kylo climbed to his feet in an instant, no longer bowing to his master, the Praetorian Guards at the ready—when Snoke’s fingers erupted in lightning, hitting Kylo hard and scattering him uselessly against the floor.

Kylo felt like a young boy again, having his agency stripped from him just so those around him would think him valuable. He hadn’t felt a pit in his stomach like this since Luke had drawn a saber on him in the night. He felt weak. He felt stupid. Of course he wasn't allowed to have the nebulous thing he'd built with Hux, Snoke demanded utter loyalty, and Kylo knew Snoke had seen that loyalty slipping.

Once he was properly dismissed, Kylo stumbled to the turbolift, the bowcaster wound screaming in pain once again—Snoke had hit it directly. He took the moment to steady himself, gazing at his mask as the passing lights swept across the battle-nicked surface. He'd been wearing it for years, trying to emulate the very idea of Darth Vader.

But Snoke was right—he wasn’t half the man Vader was.

Kylo ground his teeth, the frustration and hopelessness coming to a head as he bashed his helmet into the wall of the turbolift, again and again, destroying them both. If he couldn't be Vader, then fine. Vader was dead. Kylo was not.

Maybe steeping himself in years long past had been a mistake.

Hux was alerted to the fact that the turbolift was nonfunctional via comm, rolling his eyes and sending a maintenance crew to tidy the mess and repair the lift—although he requested the pieces of the mask be kept together in a container delivered to his office. Kylo had shown himself to be self-conscious about his appearance, Hux not wanting him to be without the mask if he’d only destroyed it in a fit of anger. Hux may not care for the helmet or vocoder, but Kylo didn’t criticize his padded uniforms—it only seemed fair to compromise.

But he didn’t have the time to worry about Kylo or his fits right now—they’d successfully tracked the Resistance through lightspeed, he could end this now if he were clever enough, and Hux was certain he was up to the task. Never mind that Snoke had mortified him in from of his officers only a short time prior. Considering the state the turbolift was in, Snoke had been abusing them both. Hux intended to set aside time for the knight later on, assuring him that he was strong and clever and handsome—everything Kylo thought he wasn’t. Snoke couldn't take those quiet moments from him. 

Hux went to command the TIE Fighters to scramble—only for the report to come back that Kylo had already left in his Silencer with a handful of Fighters. Hux was pleasantly surprised at Kylo’s initiative, stopping to check the live flight details at a nearby console.

Kylo was a brilliant pilot—having tested several TIE models over the years due to his superior amount of flight experience, before deciding the TIE Silencer version would be his ship alone. Hux thought it suited him, stifling a fond smile as he watched the trajectory.

Kylo was weaving through Resistance ships like a master, attacking the head of the fleet directly, maneuvering into a tight spot and taking out one of the Resistance's major ship hangars. That would undoubtedly keep them from putting up much of a fight, or it would at least slow them down. Hopefully he got Dameron's ship—Hux would like that. Kylo led his two flanking TIE Fighters out of the ship's inner workings and back out to fly past the bridge, taunting them intentionally.

And then he felt it.

His mother had recognized his Force signature as he zoomed by, her heart only filled with longing and a deep sadness he'd put there himself. Kylo was flying automatically, looping back around to the bridge, his thumb hovering, ready to fire on the bridge and destroy the leadership of the Resistance.

_Come home, Ben._

The connection was so intense, so familiar—his thumb slowly sliding off the trigger.

Hux, watching from the Supremacy, grabbed the comm and told the Fighters winging Kylo to take the shot. If Kylo couldn’t handle killing his mother, Hux was more than happy to. Hux's pilots confirmed a direct hit, but his pleasure at the news was stilted, watching the TIE Silencer pursue the escaping Resistance fleet with little regard for his safety.

Kylo felt sick. He knew there was only one result when one was thrown into the vacuum of space. His hands were shaking, he was sweating under his clothing, staring wide-eyed out the transparisteel. He couldn’t ground himself, he was spiraling—

“Ren, the Resistance have pulled out of range. We can’t cover you at this distance. Return to the fleet.” Hux’s voice was terse, able to tell Kylo was struggling without needing the silly powers his family held so dear.

He knew Kylo well enough to know that Kylo would get himself killed in a moment of fury, and Hux couldn’t bear to lose him, but he also needed to maintain a professional facade in front of his officers.

Kylo swore into the comm, but the TIE Silencer started coming back around, Hux breathing a muted sigh of relief before airing his annoyances to Captain Peavey. The Resistance had no more bombers or secret weapons, they were simply being irritating—but Hux could cheerfully wait them out. Peavey glared at Hux’s back when he thought the redhead wasn’t paying attention—he’d known Brendol personally, and knew that there was no way Hux’s meteoric rise to power was legitimate. The only way a man of his age received such accolades was through murder and seduction. Which made it all the more infuriating when Hux surpassed him, ordering Peavey around when Peavey had years more experience and a true memory of the Empire. This bastard had no right to rule over him, the Captain always quietly seething.

Kylo docked his TIE Silencer, struggling with his own thoughts as he considered going to the bridge—only for Hux to meet him in the corridor outside. In a brief skimming of Hux’s thoughts, Kylo found that Hux had been the one to make the call.

The one who tried to kill his mother.

He should have been pleased that Hux could stay level-headed in times of crisis, making the right call and ensuring the First Order would succeed. But all he felt was anger. Resentment. Would he have felt this way if Hux had been the one to kill Han Solo?

Hux tried to reach for Kylo, only to have his hand smacked away, the redhead taking a startled step back. Realizing what he’d done, Kylo looked awkwardly at his feet, declaring he was going to the med bay before leaving Hux behind. Hux stood in the corridor, gently grasping the hand Kylo had slapped away. That was the first time Kylo had seemed legitimately angry with him, beyond his usual bouts of anger. They’d been lovers for nearly a year, was this the act that shoved Kylo away? Hux felt something twinge in his chest, shaking it off before returning to the bridge. He had work to do.

He could talk to Kylo later.

Kylo sat in the med bay, staring off at nothing as the medical droid tugged the damaged skin together and sealed it, making the scar less grotesque than it had been when he received it. Hux had never shamed him for the wound, kissing the bandages and expressing his relief. Kylo didn’t understand why Hux wasn’t repulsed by the injury, hating what it represented. When he stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his body, he saw the ugly scar where Chewbacca had struck him. That one seemed to sting the most.

Kylo sat there sulking, meditating on his many failures before something bizarre happened—and he was talking with Rey.

She wasn’t powerful enough to maintain a Force connection like this, Kylo startled and exposed. He didn’t like it, darting out of the med bay and around the corridor, as if that would give him answers. Seeing Luke fade into the vision, his heart skipped a beat, wondering if his uncle was trying to torment him. Was Luke really trying to show off his new apprentice to shame his nephew? Before he could ask, the connection was severed, Kylo left standing alone in the corridor. Shaken, the Force user went to the only place he could think of for comfort, waiting in Hux’s quarters for the General to arrive.

Hux finally appeared a number of hours later, and he was visibly exhausted, giving a slightly tired look to the man currently occupying his sofa. He wished he could air his own grievances out, but Hux didn't need Force sensitivity to tell that Kylo's mood was extremely raw.

“Your wound looks better,” Hux observed, seeing how it was closed into a thin line instead of a wide, ugly gash up Kylo’s face. Even so, Hux would have adored him just the same if he were deformed. “How do you feel?”

“You gave the order to kill her,” Kylo said suddenly, dark eyes shifting up to the redheaded man currently hanging up his greatcoat.

Hux hesitated a moment, knowing this could go extremely poorly if his words weren't selected carefully.

“General Organa is holding the Resistance together. It only makes sense to remove her.”

Hux explained himself calmly, but he could feel Kylo’s conflict making the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. Those dark eyes burning into the back of his head. Before Hux knew it, Kylo was up and standing directly behind him, his jaw tightened. The redhead startled, turning to look at him with wide green eyes.

“I was handling it,” Kylo insisted through clenched teeth, watching Hux with an intensity that was more angry than intimate.

Hux stood stone still for a moment, watching Kylo’s face. He swallowed thickly, standing his ground.

“If you weren’t going to do it, someone had to,” Hux responded, meeting Kylo’s eyes, prepared for retaliation. He wouldn't let Kylo intimidate him out of acting in the greater interests of the First Order—they'd discussed this before.

"I-" Kylo began, before he realized that Hux was, once again, right.

The knight swallowed heavily, huffing and stomping off to slump into Hux's bed. The General didn't know how to react, undressing until he was in his comfortable robe, going to the bed to provide quiet comfort. Kylo didn't say anything more, rolling over and wrapping both arms tightly around Hux's middle, holding him like he were the only thing keeping Kylo steady. Hux allowed it, running his fingers through Kylo's hair, murmuring sweet words about how wonderful his flying had been and how pleased Hux was to be with him.

Sometimes, Kylo needed the reassurance. Hux hoped this particular swell of emotion would pass soon, holding Kylo tightly until he finally nodded off, the redhead tucking himself close before finally dropping off himself. It was harder to sleep when Kylo was distressed, but Hux still drew comfort from the man's presence, staying close through the night.


	4. Falling Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And every time I think I've finally made it,  
> I learn I'm farther away than I have ever been before.  
> I see the clock and it's ticking away,  
> And the hourglass empties—what the fuck do I have to say?

Hux left early in the cycle as he always did, Kylo waking to an empty bed with one side made oppressively well. He chucked off the blankets, went to the refresher, and got dressed.

Before heading to the bridge to see what the situation was, Kylo spent a while wandering the less populated corners of the Supremacy, watching the engines work, lost in thought.

That's when it happened again.

Rey was watching him with disgusted eyes, Kylo's exhaustion prompting him to ask why? Why was the Force connecting them? She called him a monster--he knew what he was. He'd known for years. Yes. He was a monster. The worst kind.

And then it was over, as soon as it had begun. Kylo wiped raindrops from his face, shaken by the intensity of the Force connection. Rey couldn't have done it, he hadn't prompted it--who was tormenting him so? It destroyed what little calm he'd been able to manage through Hux's affections and a night of some sleep. Kylo could feel himself fraying at the edges. Leia's Force signature hadn't ceased, he could still feel it, though it was weak. Would she die thinking that Kylo had been the one to fire on the bridge?

...Did it matter? 

Hux was deeply involved in chasing the Rebellion fleet when Kylo finally made his way to the bridge, having no time to comfort the large man when he began to loom over Hux's shoulder, waiting for recognition. Hux couldn't use the gentle voice he used in the bedroom here, perhaps being a little firm and distant when Kylo lingered, maintaining face in front of his officers. Later, he promised. Kylo seethed, it was always later. Perhaps he would have been more understanding weeks ago, but something was wrong and he needed-- No. Hux had always turned up his nose at the Force, finding it to be mystical nonsense. He wouldn't understand. Kylo went to the training rooms, savaging droids until he'd destroyed several practice swords, chucking his shirt off when he'd worked up a sweat.

And of course it happened again, when he was at his emotional limit, Rey demanding to know why he'd grown to hate Han Solo. Kylo had never truly hated him, the question stinging, deflecting by questioning Luke's teachings. Luke had betrayed him, had drawn a weapon on him when all he wanted was to be accepted. She accused him of lying--and the connection went dead.

It was infuriating, how a fellow Force user could be so blind, so willfully ignorant. He spent a while longer in the training rooms, until his muscles were screaming for a break, bathing and dressing himself. He considered going to Hux's room, but the sour feeling left in his gut from the previous cycle hadn't gone away, Kylo convincing himself that Hux was annoyed by his neediness. He instead went to his own quarters to meditate, to try and balance himself--and there she was again.

He was growing tired of this. But this time she offered him camaraderie--a mutual understanding that only those who understood the Force could have. She reached out to him, but Kylo hesitated. She was most certainly playing a trick, but he was desperate to try, feeling as though the last week of his life had strained him to breaking. He needed someone who understood the Force to listen, to tell him it would be alright, sliding off his glove and reaching out. Their fingers touched and he felt that perhaps someone else could understand his struggle--only for Luke to arrive and sever the connection.

Kylo startled back, more shaken than he'd been in years. His mind was in shambles, uncertain about everything and everyone--

Hux saw the Millennium Falcon on their radars before it arrived, alerting Snoke as he was expected. Stupid Rebellion--flying into the heart of the Supremacy as if it would matter.

Kylo was already in the hangar to greet the pod, flanked by a detail of stormtroopers. Kylo had been instructed to deliver her back before they laid siege to Takodana, but now here she was, delivering herself. He couldn't even do this right. Kylo took over escorting her to Snoke when they reached the newly repaired turbolift, his expression exhausted and lost. She tried to convince him of his attachment to the Light, telling him of visions the Force had shown her--but his visions had shown the opposite.

How could the Force be dragging them in different directions? Did it not bind them all? He'd never felt this divided in all his years of training, even the scavenger could feel it.

Kylo delivered the girl to his master as he'd been instructed several cycles ago, the apprentice only slightly reveling in the praise that followed, kneeling respectfully. Snoke had always been stingy with praise, but he was visibly thrilled by this development, Kylo wondering if Rey was intended to surpass him all along--serving Snoke. If he claimed that her ability rivaled that of Luke Skywalker, it was no wonder she'd already been able to best Kylo, the knight's scars aching faintly.

But something else was surfacing in the back of Kylo's psyche--Leia's Force signature. It wasn't nearly as weak as it had been, Kylo swallowing as he realized she must have recovered. How was that even possible? As he tried to process this new information, Anakin's lightsaber was tugged effortlessly from his hand, only glancing up briefly to appraise how Rey was responding. Poorly, from where he was kneeling, watching Snoke literally drag her closer to the throne. Kylo turned his eyes back to the floor--he knew what came next. He'd been in her position countless times.

Snoke mocked her conviction--but then spoke of the connection, of the deception he'd intentionally caused, the struggle he'd revived in Kylo. The knight's eyes shot back up, keeping his face as still as he could manage, examining Snoke for signs of deception--the old man's barriers were too strong for Kylo to glean anything with a gentle brush of his powers. Kylo knew he'd be punished soundly if he were discovered, but Snoke wasn't paying him any mind whatsoever as he began to torture Rey, Kylo turning his eyes back to the floor.

Those screams were familiar to Kylo, recalling his own throat bleeding years ago from Snoke's cruel hand. The Supreme Leader liked to break his students down to the very core of their being, until there was nothing left, before shaping them anew. But Kylo didn't feel as though he were being shaped into something better, feeling his hands shake from the memories of Snoke's abuse. How much more of this could he take? 

Meanwhile, the Resistance was fleeing the damaged cruiser in escape shuttles, praying that the First Order didn't think to track ships of such a small size. For the moment, they would be lucky, as Hux had been summoned from the bridge to deal with suspected infiltrators--and a possible informant. Hux dealt with the informant first, sending the information to the bridge and instructing Peavey to look into it. If the information was good, Hux instructed one of his officers to deal with paying the man off. Phasma had assured Hux that he would want to see these infiltrators himself, he didn't doubt that she was right, but imagine Hux's glee when he spied Phasma approaching with her squadron, FN-2187 cuffed by his former brothers in arms. He was a mistake long left uncorrected, one that Hux would take immense pleasure in erasing. Just looking into that defiant face made Hux seethe all over again, emulating Kylo somewhat when he allowed himself to backhand the traitor across the face. That was incredibly satisfying. Phasma smirked under her mask, glad to see him happy.

As an added bonus, the informant was paraded around in front of them with his newly acquired wealth, just to make the Resistance prisoners squirm. Hux wasn't going to be made a fool of again, not after losing Starkiller Base. With FN-2187 about to be imminently executed, it was almost too much good news to take when an officer arrived to report on the accurate information, Hux grinning as much as he ever did in front of his army.

"Will wonders never cease?" Hux moved to Phasma's side, tossing his longtime friend a smug look as he spoke. He absolutely owed her a bottle of something nice--or maybe paid leave for a vacation, she'd certainly earned it. Hux turned to regard the officer flanking him, instructing him to fire at will. In a few short moments, the Resistance would be nothing but scrap floating in space, the Supremacy more than capable of eviscerating the remains.

Kylo was still kneeling in the throne room, eyes on the floor as Rey screamed and writhed in the air above him, simply waiting for Snoke to be finished. He was testing himself, doing his best to do what he thought Hux might do, breathing carefully, biding his time--

Rey was dropped mercilessly to the floor, but she didn't hesitate, jumping to her feet and calling for Anakin's lightsaber. Kylo was in a nearly meditative state, feeling the object approaching and leaning some to avoid it, but otherwise not allowing his focus to falter. Snoke was completely focused on Rey, appearing to gain a genuine enjoyment out of tormenting her. She was full of love for her friends and the people who had taken her in, gaining strength from the desire to protect them--so Snoke opened the viewport, dragging her around and showing her how the Resistance was slowly being picked off by the Supremacy's cannons. All she loved and protected would be lost. Kylo wasn't paying it much mind, sure that Hux was making himself indispensable, his mind nearly achieving complete focus--when he felt his own custom lightsaber go flying from his hip, only glancing up briefly.

She was drawing a considerable amount of attention to herself, Snoke laughing more than he had in decades as he tossed her back with minimal effort, Kylo's saber deactivating and landing at his feet. He looked at the hilt of his saber, then flicked his eyes up to Snoke--the old man was still thoroughly distracted by Rey, but not for much longer. Kylo maintained as much of his meditative mind as he could, letting Snoke's meaningless praise wash over him as he took his weapon in hand, keeping his eyes on Rey as he rose slowly to his feet.

The young Jedi watched Kylo with wide eyes, trying to see into Ben's mind, to sense anything about his intent--but his mind was almost blank, expressionless as he watched her.

"I know what I have to do."

In just those few words, Rey felt something shift. If Ben were truly going to turn to the Light, she knew that it would have to be a surprise, her heart pounding. Snoke sounded so positive about Kylo's loyalty, Rey watching him, powerless to move as he lifted his saber toward her face. Snoke's presence was overwhelming, making it too difficult to try and read Ben's intent, Rey feeling tears streaming down her face as she realized that perhaps this was how it ended.

And then it didn't.

Kylo didn't ignite his saber and Rey was dropped from the crushing hold Snoke had on her, gaping at the scene playing out on the throne. The knight had used the whole of his training and ability to deceive Snoke, his expression relaxing and his mind more free as he released the tension he'd been holding. Rey caught Anakin's saber as it flew to her, looking at Kylo like he were Ben Solo all over again, returning to the Light where he belonged.

But neither of them could contemplate what this meant, a wordless truce called as they destroyed every last one of Snoke's guards.

With the throne room in complete shambles around them, the last body fell to the floor. Kylo had never had a workout quite like that, with the Force or with his swordsmanship. Now that Snoke's claws were no longer sunk into the back of his mind, Kylo felt... unhinged. Ever since he'd first felt the Force around him, there had been a dark presence lingering just out of reach. All throughout his childhood, through his training at the Jedi temple, for the past several years as Snoke's apprentice--Kylo approached the throne, simply allowing the act he'd just committed to truly sink in.

Rey was shouting something about saving the Resistance, Leia's energy slipping further away, but not fading. She still lived. And Rey wouldn't stop calling him Ben, something finally snapping.

"It's time to let old things die. Snoke. Skywalker," his mind was starting to race, turning to her with slightly wild eyes. "The Sith, the Jedi, the Rebels... Let it all die."

For the first time in his life, Kylo felt like he knew exactly what to do. The past had only ever hurt him, and he was done being beaten down. Everything from the past had to die, the slate wiped clean, so the galaxy could prosper. But he needed someone else with the Force to help him. No one else lived who could understand the burden of the Force. No one. His mother and uncle had forsaken him, Snoke was dead--who else was there?

Hux permitted Phasma to deal with the intruders as she saw fit, returning to the bridge to oversee the destruction of the fleeing shuttles. As he arrived, the trackers indicated the cruiser about to jump to lightspeed. Hux scoffed, they'd clearly abandoned some poor soul to distract them as the escape shuttles flew away, even as they were steadily decreasing in number.

And then he saw it, the cruiser turning toward the Supremacy.

Hux felt a pit of cold dread settle in his gut, Peavey immediately gasping in horror as Hux screamed for all of their cannons to fire on the cruiser.

But it was too late.

The ship pitched hard as the cruiser made impact, Hux's life flashing before his eyes as he anticipated immediate death--but Holdo's aim had been slightly off. The starboard side of the Supremacy was severed, along with a dozen Star Destroyers. Hux's error in judgement had nearly gotten all of them killed, the redhead white as a ghost as he realized the ship hadn't instantly imploded. The safety doors had been sealed to stabilize the remaining interior, Hux demanding damage reports as he rushed from the bridge and directly to the throne room. There was a solid chance that Phasma and Kylo had avoided the worst, but he needed to see for himself. Hux arrived in the throne room as quickly as his legs could reasonably carry him, horrified by the destruction that awaited.

Snoke and every single one of his guards were dead, while Kylo was a heap on the floor. Had Kylo gone insane? And where was the girl? Hux rest a hand on his blaster in a moment of wariness, only for Kylo to stir, as if he sensed danger. Indeed, Kylo woke to the sight of Hux's gloved hand resting at his blaster, only seeing Luke in that moment of uncertainty. Hux was clearly no different than everyone else who had failed him. 

Even Hux was a facet of his past, and it all had to go.

Kylo looked wild and somewhat unhinged as he picked himself off the floor, Hux attempting to school his tone as he asked what happened, realizing just how completely and utterly disastrous this was. The knight, having just decided that Hux was in the past and could not be trusted, lied immediately. Hux felt his expression twitch--he knew when Kylo was lying, he could hear it in the man's voice. Did Kylo assume Hux was an idiot? After rushing here to make sure Kylo was even still alive and the knight had the gall to lie to Hux's face, the man staggering to the transparisteel, watching the transports make planetfall.

The General tightened his jaw and ground his teeth some, reasoning to himself that Kylo had been thrown in the impact and hit his head extremely hard. He was being short and delirious--until he started telling Hux what to do, not even looking at him before stomping off like he had any authority to do so. Kylo was known to be blunt, pushy, and a complete ass--but this wasn't the same. It felt more like a command tossed at a subordinate, the redhead feeling himself start to seethe.

Hux had been stepped on his entire life, bristling automatically at the treatment and snapping at Kylo's retreating back. Maybe it was harsh, but Hux had just experienced a terrible ordeal, commanding Kylo to watch his tongue and respect Hux's authority. Typically, Kylo would begrudgingly concede to Hux's superior experience, but instead he said nothing, stopping in his tracks. Kylo had his back turned, and Hux abruptly felt his esophagus crush down to nothing, Kylo turning to him with wild eyes, hand outstretched.

The General felt his lungs failing to take in air, his face going red as he struggled against the invisible hold. Spots were forming in his eyes, tears streaking down his face from the pressure as Kylo demanded subservience. Hux couldn't breathe, let alone talk, using all of his strength to manage out the words.

"Long live the Supreme Leader."

Kylo held him in place a moment longer, Hux's vision starting to go black as his body struggled not to fall unconscious. And just like that, Kylo dropped Hux completely, the redhead crumpling to the floor with a stilted gasp. He felt like he had the wind knocked out of him, unable to draw breath, his lungs burning badly. Hux clutched at his chest, finally managing to take in paltry amounts of air, coming back from the cusp of a serious fit of asthma. His instincts had kicked in to keep him alive, but now that he was marginally stable, he was coming to realize that Kylo had just come very close to killing him.

It was a sobering realization, watching as Kylo left the room with nothing more than a commanding, "get it done."

Hux had pledged himself to Kylo's leadership only to save his own life. He expected they would argue over who did what and who screwed up--not this. Not for Kylo to seize power and use Hux as a stepping stone. Those late nights, wrapped in each other's arms, swearing they would never let Snoke pit them against one another--only for it to no longer matter. Had all of that meant nothing?

Hux had been commanded to mastermind the assault on Crait, washing his face and taking a moment to compose himself before boarding the command shuttle. Hux was still extremely and understandably wary of Kylo's mood, which was showing no signs of improvement. Hux managed to maintain his professional exterior, but deferred to Kylo's newly established command through clenched teeth. Kylo hadn't gone to a military academy or been raised on Empire propaganda--bellowing commands at Hux's soldiers, who nervously listened for the General's properly worded command before acting.

Kylo was growing annoyed, he felt like Hux was making fun of him somehow. Hux could feel Kylo looking at him, sensing the growing animosity. And when Luke Skywalker appeared on the field, Kylo was beyond reason.

"I want every gun we have to fire on that man."

Hux didn't repeat that command, tossing a look of disbelief at the back of Kylo's head. Couldn't they just fire, say, _one_ gun? He was a single unarmored target. Kylo insisted, the clear hesitation in the officers taking his commands agitating Kylo more and more. But Kylo was allowed to have his moment of command, screaming and becoming more and more unraveled. Having had enough of this, Hux moved to speak softly against Kylo's ear, trying to reach him.

"That's enough."

Hux watched the side of Kylo's face, those dark eyes not once breaking from the field where the man once stood. This was ridiculous, Hux barking at his army to cease fire. Kylo slumped back into his seat, looking marginally less manic.

"Do you think you got him?" Hux asked dryly, unable to stop himself when that had been so... utterly ridiculous.

Kylo had the sense to look a little ashamed, Hux sighing and preparing to lay siege to the Resistance hideout. It shouldn't be hard now, Hux about to command the AT-ATs into a new formation--when Luke Skywalker remained when the dust settled. Hux narrowed his eyes, knowing logically that there was no way any man could survive a barrage like that. Was this some kind of trick?

"Bring me down to him," Kylo demanded, just barely keeping his voice from trembling.

Hux set his jaw in frustration, wishing that Kylo could see past his own bursts of irrationality and see that something wasn't right. Clearly, they were being somehow misled. The redhead turned to Kylo, seeing genuine fear in his face. In an attempt to make Kylo feel important, Hux referred to him as Supreme Leader, explaining why that was a poor idea--and earning himself three fractured ribs as Kylo chucked him like a useless slip of paper. Kylo stomped off to face his uncle, while Hux lay gasping on the floor of the command shuttle, going partly into shock.

The battle on Crait had been weeks ago now, Hux carrying on like the professional he was, while Kylo fumbled with his new position. He wasn’t fit to lead, he’d only demanded it because Snoke had been a Force user and Kylo had bested him.

Wasn’t that enough?


	5. Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't explain but I want to try.  
> There's this image of you and I,  
> And it goes dancing by in the morning,  
> And in the night time.  
> There's all these secrets that I can't keep,  
> Like in my heart there's that hotel suite,  
> And you lived there so long,  
> It's kinda strange now you're gone.

For the first few weeks, Kylo’s tantrums went far over the usual budget Hux had set aside for this exact reason—shattering transparisteel and spacing someone he didn’t like looking at him, causing devastating damage and depressurization of that portion of the ship. It was straining the First Order’s resources for no legitimate reason, Hux perpetually seething while continuing to work under increasing duress. It was a wonder he'd managed such professionalism, considering all Kylo had done, Hux's officers noticeably approaching the General with a bit more caution after the power shift.

Over thirty years ago now, when the scraps of the Empire convened in the Unknown Regions, resources were incredibly scarce. Until supply lines could be established in exchange for military weaponry or know-how, adults were known to sacrifice their meals for the children—the future of the surviving Empire. During those first few cycles on the run from the Rebellion, Hux recalled Grand Admiral Sloane snapping her ration bar in half and sharing with him when his own father refused. 

Hux knew what real struggling looked like, he could weather that kind of storm all over again if he had to. It's not like eating or sleeping were things he did often or enjoyed. Frivolous, wasteful activities.

As the weeks turned to months, Kylo's reign of terror began to subside, the man taking to sitting around the throne room and brooding—only periodically demanding someone be jettisoned from an airlock to be an example. The thrill was and had been gone for weeks, Kylo just now realizing that Snoke had been doing a lot of _work_ for an old man who only ever appeared to sit around. People were deferring to Kylo about things he needed first explained in detail—which was making getting anything done incredibly slow and inconvenient.

Eventually, Kylo realized why that was. Snoke had given Hux clearance to act above the rank of General in certain circumstances, but the Supreme Leader who'd made that call was now dead, and Hux had defaulted back to _only_ his General's duties. Kylo was frustrated by Hux's quiet acts of revenge, but was embarrassed how long it had taken him to figure it out. Maybe if he'd gone to any of the dozen meetings Hux had a day, or watched him work on the bridge, or asked about the partial blueprints in his office—maybe Kylo would have had a better basis for being a Supreme Leader.

Kylo had been incredibly attuned to Hux’s desires once, only for the redhead to now be intentionally overdiligent, making it difficult for Kylo to read him at all. As usual, Hux knew exactly what he was doing, undoubtedly aware of how frustrating his behavior was for the fledgling Supreme Leader. Hux had always been underhanded in both his revenge and his expressions of displeasure, Kylo having to now constantly watch for both. Hypervigilance was exhausting for both of them. The only emotion he could really sense on Hux at all anymore was annoyance—which had become almost a constant. Kylo had, at one point, pointed to some planets he liked on a holomap and demanded them for the First Order—reasoning to himself that it was a good idea to spread them out so their reach went farther. Hux always radiated displeasure and disgust during these meetings, but never again questioned the Supreme Leader’s commands, turning heel and always being the first officer out the door when they were done.

The months seemed to drag, Kylo getting a direct message every time one of their colonies was revolting or otherwise under attack, being asked to make decisions. Should they send assistance or just let the colonies go to raiders? The citizens are requesting more resources, what should we tell them? Kylo didn't know the first thing about _colonizing_ , especially not on the scale that Hux apparently had planned out. 

The planets Kylo had demanded were too spread out, making the distribution of supplies and defense much more difficult—which Kylo would have known if he’d just let Hux explain his methods. But Hux hadn’t been explaining anything to him lately, limiting their interactions to one word answers and liberal use of Kylo’s new title. Each time, it sounded a little more unpleasant to Kylo—or was he just picking up on Hux’s perpetual irritation again?

Sometimes, if Kylo meditated enough, he could almost feel the memory of Hux's smile against his lips.

Kylo had never understood how Hux could stay up half the night working, but insomnia related to stress was very real, gaining a new appreciation for all Hux had personally done to keep the First Order running like a well-oiled machine. With all the stressors piling up on his shoulders, Kylo rarely slept anymore, his expression increasingly haggard as time passed.

It was on one of those late, sleepless nights—Kylo was sitting in the main conference room, staring at a holomap of the galaxy, watching as flashing red distress markers appeared over nearly every planet he’d asked they claim. Worse, several of the planets were those Hux had worked tirelessly to bring under First Order control. Some were being contacted by the scraps of the Resistance, who offered both aid and protection from First Order retaliation. Some of them were turning.

Kylo could watch his new empire falling apart in real-time, staring blankly at it for a long while before tapping the conference table’s call button, requesting General Hux.

It was the middle of high command's rest cycle, Hux arriving some time later with a now-familiar look of revulsion on his face, along with annoyance at having been summoned when he was already undressed and relaxing with a drink. After getting completely dressed all over again, Hux went to the main conference room, expecting to see the rest of high command—groggy and irritated—but there was only Kylo.

Hux felt uneasy.

"Supreme Leader," he began, seeing something like a flinch cross Kylo's features. "My shift ended approximately three and a half hours ago. This couldn't wait?"

Kylo was slouched in one of the chairs, the light from the holomap revealing the utter exhaustion in his face. He knew Hux would be prickly, it's not like he expected any different. The Supreme Leader braced himself, scrubbing a hand over his face before going back to watching the galaxy map rotate over the table.

“I need you to fix this,” Kylo finally said, not taking his eyes off the holodisplay—another flashing red alert had popped up.

Hux didn’t like this. He hadn't been alone with Kylo in this room since— Well, it had involved Hux getting the edge of the table bruised into his hipbones, his jodhpurs around the top of his boots, and Kylo hunched over him. That had been a long time ago now, before Starkiller Base had been completed.

“Fix what?” Hux forced himself to ask, his hands behind his back at parade rest, feigning stoicism. 

Kylo gestured vaguely to the map in front of him, “just— all of this.”

Hux grimaced, glancing only briefly at the map.

"Is the holodisplay not functioning correctly, Supreme Leader? I suggest you call maintenance for that."

"YOU—" Kylo bashed his fist down on the conference table hard enough to crack the polished surface, Hux startling badly—maybe he'd gone a little too far with that one. Nearly immediately, Kylo is forcing his breathing to calm, sweeping his hair from his face and swallowing. He tried again after a moment, pressing his hands together and hunching over his lap. "You... You know what I mean, Hux."

Kylo was doing an admirable job of correcting his tone, one edge of Hux's lip still perked in a sneer. Resting his elbows on his thighs, Kylo turned his head up to look at Hux. The General was always in perfect condition, the lines of his uniform as orderly as his hair. Kylo's hair was comparatively stringy and falling back into his face, smears of ash on his cheeks presumably from rubbing at his face while wet. The bags under his eyes didn't help anything either, looking for any kind of sympathy in Hux's expression—there was none.

"I need you," Kylo started, still maintaining control over his tone, but just barely. "To fix this."

"What are your specific commands, Supreme Leader?" Hux dared ask with his controlled expression and professional tone, one of his red eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly.

"Hux—" Kylo rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes in frustration, knowing he probably deserved this, but... this was also the longest they'd spent together in months. He needed this. "Please. I-I need you to actually talk to me."

The redhead scowled as Kylo looked down to contemplate his lap, glancing back to the holomap. Hux was looking at an absolute disaster, wondering if it would be easier to scrap everything and start fresh. Kylo had caused an awful lot of trouble to go asking for help now, Hux tempted to reject the offer purely out of spite. Still, it could be a lot _worse_ , they would have to cut their losses with some planets and fall back to those where the First Order's influence was stronger, but it would only take them a few months to replenish—

Kylo could sense Hux's mind working, glancing up to see him examining the map, glaring at it as if his green gaze alone could right the galaxy. Already, he felt something in himself tipping back into place, the realization striking him harder than Snoke's lightning. Hux may not be Force sensitive, but his logic and his calm exterior made him an ideal anchor for Kylo—who often failed in his training because of his lack of those traits. Without even thinking, Kylo reached for one of the hands fisted behind Hux's back, leather brushing leather for only a moment before the General visibly panicked, and Kylo had a concealed knife at his throat.

Kylo could have prevented it if he weren't so tired, but he didn't immediately expect Hux to kill him either, despite the General having good reason to try. Kylo didn't dare speak with a blade that close to his adam's apple, instead lifting his hands to show that his intent was peaceful. Hux narrowed his eyes, having moved so that one hand was holding Kylo's offending wrist at an uncomfortable angle, while the other held a spring-loaded stiletto-style dagger that seemed to come from nowhere. Slowly, Hux pulled back, unblinking as he did so. When he was satisfied that Kylo wasn't actually going to be a threat, he allowed himself to look away.

"Do not touch me." Hux finally stated in a firm tone, retracting the blade into the hilt before sliding the dagger back into place in his uniform sleeve. "And as for your request, I will have to consider it."

Kylo reached to touch the spot the blade had been, making sure no blood had been drawn—he didn't recognize that one, it must be new. Considering the myriad of other ways this could have gone, Hux not killing him and promising to think about it was much better than some of the alternatives, Kylo nodding in approval.

"Um— Good. You're dismissed."

For the first time in months, Hux lingered for a moment, narrowing his eyes and examining Kylo's face before finally turning and seeing himself out. That had been... odd. Hux suspected alcohol was somehow involved, or Kylo had gotten the backwards idea into his head that they'd had sex before and he could get lucky—thus the touching. But neither of those things seemed to quite be it, Hux slightly thrown off by the meeting for the rest of the next cycle.


	6. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only I could fix the sky to meet me  
> If only I could fix my heart to meet at dawn  
> It's got a way of knowing when to hurt me  
> Oh it's when the night is long

Almost six months had passed after the death of Snoke, Kylo taking the time to meditate, struggling to find himself in the Force after being ripped apart so completely for so long. Finally heeding his mother’s advice, he gave it time, and time eventually taught Kylo that the Force _wasn't_ a soft voice in the back of his head, melding into his subconscious. It was more of an instinct, a heightened awareness of the way he passed through the universe around him. Other Force-users made stronger waves when they were nearby—Snoke’s had been unpleasant and suffocating.

The Force was not a voice.

It took Kylo time to process the realization that Snoke had been inside his mind since before he could remember, everything in his life disrupted by the contrarian voice demanding he defy his parents and let his rage free. Han and Leia couldn't control the clear disruption in his relationship with the Force, hoping Luke would have answers, but he was overcome by his own fear of Ben's potential. Snoke often told Kylo how Skywalker still dreamed of slaughtering him in cold blood, which was proven false when Luke simply distracted Kylo on Crait instead of killing him.

How much else had Snoke lied to him about?

Kylo felt himself tip back into balance that night when Hux stood nearby, the General's mind calm and logical, a perfect foil to Kylo's passion and impulse. In time, the Supreme Leader realized that the only way he would truly be able to understand his place in the Force was to try and make amends with Hux. 

It would be more difficult now than it had ever been when they'd fought in the past—Phasma had a way of helping Kylo express his jumbled emotions to Hux in a more organized and logical sounding way, mediating and helping them air out their grievances with one another, before they were inevitably thrown together and kissing. She always seemed to have a vested interest in helping Kylo navigate Hux's stuck-up Imperial upbringing, though he never really knew why.

Now he never would.

Approximately three cycles after their meeting in the conference room, Hux forwarded the Supreme Leader a series of different plans—all viable starting points for "fixing this", as Kylo had put it. Each option came with a neatly bulleted list of pros and cons, most of which had something to do with available manpower and the budget. Hux's outlines were as dry and professional as one could expect, but Kylo did catch a few barbs hidden between the lines—"as per the Supreme Leader's request", "due to lack of resources, there will be widespread cutbacks", and so on. But, at least Hux was complaining, which was better than him being completely silent.

Still, Hux did nothing to actively seek Kylo out unless he was summoned, sending couriers to deliver or receive essential messages. For all Hux seemed to care, Kylo could go live on the Supremacy by himself once it was recommissioned.

Kylo could feel Hux’s disdain for him through the walls, but again, it was _something_. After looking over the plans as much as he could without falling asleep, Kylo did his best to display his trust in Hux's ability, selecting the plan he figured Hux liked best—since it was the wordiest and most detailed of the bunch. For the first time in a long time, Kylo had a vague idea of what Hux might desire, unconsciously tracking his Force signature as he moved about the ship. 

The wordy plan went as follows—

_Remaining troops still planetside in disputed areas are hereby commanded by the Supreme Leader to pull out and return to the fleet to await reassignment. If possible, scout nearby orphanages for Stormtrooper Program recruits. Requesting fleet assistance in evac procedures is hereby granted by the Supreme Leader until such a time that it is no longer necessary. Incident reports must be filed within three (3) hours of returning to the fleet. Based on the findings in these reports, high command will determine which planets are most viable in the current galactic climate._

_First Order flagship, the Supremacy, is out of commission pending major repairs. All personnel have been reassigned. The Finalizer will be serving as temporary flagship under further notice. Additionally, recent fleet losses necessitate replenishment of a minimum two dozen (24) Star Destroyers and two (2) Star Dreadnoughts. General Hux also requests additional funding for [REDACTED], pending approval from high command and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren._

_Recent casualty counts also necessitate a wide-scale recruitment effort for all branches of the First Order military. Existing personnel, prepare to receive recruits in need of training—_

Kylo kind of zoned out as the written outline went on like that, getting into finer and finer details. He assumed the other members of high command would know what it all meant, staring out the transparisteel of the throne room as the Finalizer finished a lightspeed jump, joining a pair of other star destroyers helping with the extraction of their troops from a troubled planet. Hux wasn't wasting any time, doing four jumps that cycle alone and overseeing the high-profile operations from the bridge.

Knowing there was very little he could do aside from commanding people to read Hux's outline and do what it said, Kylo went about the ship to do as he usually did—train, meditate, train more, bathe... and fail to sleep.

The Supreme Leader ended up in the conference room again, turning on the holomap and examining the difference. It had been approximately 36 hours since Hux's outlined plan had been enacted, Kylo simply forwarding the instructions to the relevant parties. Six of the distress signals were now gone from the map, but Kylo had the creeping feeling that Hux could have worked much faster if every decision didn't have to go through Kylo first. With that in mind, Kylo used his insomnia to read up on First Order ranks and what each entailed—finally learning what the difference was between a General and an Admiral. He'd thought they were roughly the same thing.

After two more cycles and numerous more successes, Hux arrived on the bridge to congratulations from each of his officers as he arrived for his shift. Had something especially good happened?

"Congratulations, Grand Marshal," greeted Peavey's replacement—a spritely woman with an exemplary record for maintaining order—the newly appointed Captain Tenham.

Hux did his best not to look stunned, but this was the absolute first he was hearing of any sort of promotion, and there was only a single person with the authority to approve such a change in rank. The Grand Marshal was the right hand of the Supreme Leader, only needing to defer to one another in extreme situations. Hux had craved the rank, wanting to slot himself into the perfect position to succeed Snoke, but now he was conflicted.

There was no way around it, he'd need to talk to Kylo.

Instead of working through his lunch like usual, Hux stopped by his rooms to have a very small sip of something celebratory—he'd only been Grand Marshal Hux for a few hours, but he was enjoying the freedoms it provided him already. However, he wasn't two steps into the foyer before he spied a shipment container of new uniforms, the redhead swallowing and opening the crate. And there it was, two beautifully embroidered stripes around the left sleeve of the uniform, a single gold star between them. 

And with this change in uniform, Hux had officially surpassed his father in all things. 

Hux was extremely pleased for the remainder of his shift, periodically admiring the fit of his new uniform. Truly, First Order tailoring couldn't be matched. The newly appointed Grand Marshal finished his shift on a high note, heading for his chambers to enjoy a drink. A delivery droid was waiting outside the door, not having the same clearances as the one delivering uniforms. Curiously, he asked the droid if the package had been scanned for hazards, which it had. Hux permitted the droid to follow him inside and set the package down, wheeling itself out in short order.

Hux picked up the container, which was not exceptionally large, wondering what was inside as he set it on his table and opened it. Inside, there was a rare Arkanisian brandy, the bottling dated in 0 ABY—Hux's birth year. It was an exceptional gift, Hux not knowing how to appropriately react as he set the bottle aside, finding a note card in the box.

_You've more than earned this.  
—KR_

The card smelled like ash and cologne, making Hux feel slightly nostalgic. Ah, no wonder—the bottle had been protected in the box by Kylo's old cowl, the entire gift smelling like the knight in his loungewear. Hux realized what he was doing, his face slightly heated when he tucked the bottle back into the safety of the cowl in the box, slotting the card in beside it before shutting the container and storing it away.

Hux would accept the promotion because he'd earned it years ago, but not intimate gifts, not like what was in the box he was now concealing at the top of his closet. He wasn't going to let himself be seduced by the memories of Kylo's scent on his pillow or the soft way those brown eyes used to watch him. Not when he still had nightmares of those same eyes, enraged and beyond reason, squeezing Hux’s throat until everything went black.

Those eyes belonged to the same man. They were two sides of the same coin, the fury and the violence, opposite the gentle way Kylo used to kiss at his skin and murmur soft affections against his ear. That only made it worse. With Brendol and Snoke, Hux could affirm that he'd always hated them, and therefore the abuse was just a symptom of being so utterly despisable. But with Kylo, Hux had exposed himself to weakness and been betrayed, which hurt and lingered in a completely different sort of way.

Hux's very first foray into romance had ended much the same. There was a boy he liked to kiss when he was at the academy, one who took compromising photos and threatened to tell Hux's father about their flirtations. Shortly afterwards, the same boy was found in his room, tongue cut out, and already dead from blood loss. There was a minor upset throughout the fleet, as the next generation was necessary to revive the Empire—but Brendol always stoked that kind of competition between his students. Especially those who were the guinea pigs for the Stormtrooper Program. 

Hux didn’t linger on those days, unable to completely remember patches of time as he was made to test the stormtrooper training simulations before they were finished. Several were nixed by high command as being too emotionally damaging, Brendol keeping the data around seemingly for nostalgia. Hux had it destroyed after Brendol was confirmed dead, asking Phasma to dispose of it—too many bad memories.

Again, he didn’t tend to linger on it.

But that small flirtation he’d enjoyed as a teenager was the first and last time he'd allow someone to take his guard down, only to beat him with it. Boys were fun, but too much trouble, and Hux hardly had downtime as it was.

And then there was Kylo Ren, a man who had seemed altogether _too_ attached to Hux's affections, very nearly killing Hux on two occasions, one after another. Hux had killed before, he knew better than to let his guard down again after one attempt, let alone two. Moreover, his experiences with intimacy and affection had only ever caused him to end up feeling unpleasant or committing a murder, so it seemed wise to just avoid them altogether. 

Hux subsisted on an adequate amount of everything—dry ration bars were adequate food, recycled air was adequate air, occasionally palming at himself in the shower was adequate intimacy, and so on. He wasn't used to things like fresh food, a real breeze, or honest affection. What Kylo had given him had been genuinely wonderful, but it had been taken away, and Hux didn't think he could survive the possibility of having it and losing it again. 

So, no, he wouldn't accept Kylo's attempt to win back his affections, not after what happened.

In a small act of defiance, Hux opened a bottle of wine he’d picked up on a whim, drinking that instead. Again, he toasted to no one, as there was no one left to have a toast with. He drank in the quiet of his rooms, only the hum of the ship keeping him company.

A few hours passed like this, Hux drinking and idly keeping up with reports with his datapad. It was getting a bit late, Hux realized, glancing at the chrono and figuring it was time for him to go lay in bed and stare at the ceiling a while. That was at least marginally restful, right?

Hux set the rest of the wine aside and went to change out of his uniform, having kept it on out of sheer delight—there was nothing quite like a freshly tailored uniform. And because of his respect for the uniform, he would not be sleeping in it, dropping the pieces down the laundry chute and changing into a silk robe. It felt nice against the skin, which was even more pleasant because he’d been partaking of that wine. He went to the refresher, washing his face and checking it for imperfections, being overly critical of one of his eyebrows.

Tasks like this were relaxing, he could probably manage to sleep if he kept this sort of thing up.

And then the door to his chambers pinged—someone was requesting entry. Hux furrowed his brow at his own reflection, an unpleasant feeling in his gut. Still, he broke from the mirror and went to the door, checking the console for the live feed, of course it was Kylo. The gift itself hadn’t been enough, he had to go overboard and show up just as Hux was about to go to sleep, as if he made a specific effort to be as inconvenient as possible. Still watching the feed, Hux realized that Kylo had a large bundle of black fabric in his arms, the redhead narrowing his eyes. Hux was not interested in the little bribes Kylo was using to—what? Manipulate him? Trying to come up with a logical explanation for Kylo Ren was exhausting, Hux reaching down to the intercom button.

“Do you need something, Supreme Leader?” Hux’s voice sounded through the intercom, exasperated and wary.

Kylo honestly couldn’t believe his luck, not expecting Hux to respond at all, let alone on the first try. He visibly fumbled, tucking whatever was under that fabric into the crook of his arm, using his freed hand to hit the intercom.

“I don’t plan to stay, I just have something you should see, Grand Marshal.” Kylo knew where the camera was placed, so he looked up at Hux through the console, something soft and apologetic in his eyes.

Hux was relieved that Kylo couldn’t see or hear him at the moment, because he made a sound of frustration at that face and those _eyes_. He had no idea what Kylo wanted from him, so he may as well find out, just so Hux could soundly reject him and send him about his business. Hux pursed his lips before releasing the lock on the door, walking away from it as it opened and Kylo stepped inside, not wanting to look at him right away.

Kylo was somewhat dazed as the door opened, watching Hux pouring himself wine and crossing his arms, looking irritated—but in a slightly different way. The room looked the same, he didn’t know why he thought it wouldn’t, shutting the door behind him. 

“Grand Marshal,” Kylo greeted, nodding his head in respect, even if Hux was only looking out of his periphery.

“And what is it I need to see, Supreme Leader?” Hux asked coolly, getting immediately to business. The faster they were done, the faster Kylo would leave, he reasoned.

Annoyingly, Kylo invited himself to sit on the sofa nearest where Hux was standing, setting the bundle down on the coffee table with a light thud. Hux narrowed his eyes, what had Kylo just brought into his room? Kylo took a deep, steadying breath before he began to unwrap the fabric. The fabric wasn’t completely black, a streak of red going down one edge, eventually fading into burned tatters.

Kylo uncovered a chromium stormtrooper's helmet. 

Hux’s expression changed immediately, utterly unable to stop the startled look in his eyes as he realized what Kylo had brought him. He moved to sit on the sofa immediately, setting his wine glass aside, and lifting the helmet into his hands as he sat down, examining it.

The left eye of the helmet was completely bashed inward, covered in soot from explosions, and still a little chill to the touch from being space debris. Hux had already known that Phasma was gone but holding her helmet in his hands... his lips trembled.

"It was brought back by salvage a few hours ago," Kylo explained, keeping his voice steady and watching Hux's expression, trying not to ramble nervously. “It was too cold to be handled right away, so I brought it over as soon as it was safe.”

The edges of Hux's lips twitched downwards as he reached to touch the hole in the visor, his eyes burning as something awful swelled in his chest—and for the first time since Armitage was a teenager and forbidden to express emotion, he was crying. Hux clutched the mask in his hands, tipping his forehead against it and drawing in a shaking breath, all his regret pouring out of him at once. All she'd ever done was be good to him, and his error in judgement killed her. It was his fault and he knew it—

"It wasn't your fault," Kylo offered gently, fisting his hands in his lap, resisting the urge to provide physical comfort. Hux had asked not to be touched. "No one expected _that_."

Hux couldn't even be properly angry that Kylo was listening to him think, not knowing that his semi-inebriated thoughts were very loud.

"I _should_ have," Hux insisted sharply, only peripherally regarding Kylo, obvious tears streaking down his cheeks. "It's my responsibility to anticipate anything and react accordingly. She put her faith in me and I let her down."

Kylo was fidgeting slightly, all of his instincts begging to reach out and pull Hux close, petting his hair and letting him cry. He was doing his best to avoid those impulses, simply watching as Hux visibly struggled to stop the flow of tears, internally chastising himself for being weak enough to cry. It was maddening to sit here, listening to Hux judge himself, seeing him so upset—and knowing exactly why he wasn’t allowed to provide comfort.

It took time, but Hux did calm himself, resting Phasma's helmet on the table. Wiping at his face with his hands, Hux stood from where he was sitting, heading for his closet. 

"I have something of yours."

Hux retuned with an ordinary looking box, sitting back down before handing it to Kylo. The larger man furrowed his brow in confusion, but accepted it anyway, pulling off the top. 

It was his mask.

Kylo assumed it had been thrown away with the remains of the turbolift he'd destroyed, but here it was, meticulously pieced back together by hand. It seemed a bit fragile as a result, Kylo removing it gently from the box and appraising it fondly.

"I didn't know if you'd want it back. I meant to return it sooner I just—" He avoided looking at Kylo, picking up Phasma's helmet and going to find a polishing rag. 

Even if Kylo wasn't that version of himself anymore, it was humbling to see the mask looking back at him, the both of them having changed quite a lot. Hux still smiled at him back when he wore the mask, it reminded him of those simpler moments he'd taken for granted. 

Hux returned after wiping the helmet free of soot, taking a polishing cloth to the chromium—it's how she would have wanted to be remembered. Kylo watched Hux involve himself in the task, standing on the opposite end of the room.

"...I'm sorry."

Hux stopped polishing for a moment, very slightly inclining his head toward Kylo, but not saying anything. That wasn't the reaction Kylo was hoping for, figuring Hux wanted to make sure he knew what he was apologizing for.

"I'm sorry about what happened to Starkiller. If I had just given up on the map like you told me to, none of it would have happened." Kylo swallowed some, Hux's mood was impossible to read and it was making him nervous. "I'm sorry for... for lying to you about Snoke. I panicked."

Hux huffed on the other side of the room, resuming his polishing.

"And... I'm sorry I hurt you." Kylo couldn't even bring himself to look at Hux's reaction, rubbing his hands together and watching the floor from his place on the sofa. "I don't have an excuse. I just—"

Kylo sighed softly and made himself go quiet, knowing he would be making excuses if he kept talking.

"I accept your apology," Hux began after a long pause, Kylo sensing a 'but' coming. "And I do not forgive you."

That stung badly, Kylo tensing a little. Hux hadn't even looked up to say it, keeping up an aloof appearance as he carefully polished the helmet. Didn't Kylo deserve to be forgiven after such a thoughtful display?

"Hux—"

"No,” Hux stopped him sharply, looking up from his task with a ferocity in his eyes. “I am not going to forgive you for breaking my ribs and giving me a permanent breathing condition. I refuse."

Kylo shrunk back slightly, going back to pondering his lap as Hux continued.

"Perhaps we can move on from that unpleasant business, but I am not going to carry on and pretend as if it never happened." 

Hux was clearly still angry, which wasn't exactly surprising, but it also wasn't what Kylo had hoped for. A moment later, Hux gestured to Kylo with the partially polished helmet currently in his hands.

"But… Thank you for bringing this to me. I appreciate it more than I can say." Hux’s voice had softened, looking back to the helmet in his hands with a melancholic expression.

Kylo swallowed, glad that his feeling about it had been correct, and sensing that Hux meant what he said. It was probably the first thing he’d done right in months.

“You’re welcome,” he responded solemnly, rubbing his gloved hands together. 

Kylo was getting the sense that he should leave, despite every bone in his body wanting to stay. It was familiar here, especially with Hux nearby focusing on a detail-oriented task. Really, Kylo could very easily just fall asleep here on the sofa. But he made himself stand, placing his repaired mask back in the box, intending on taking the gift with him.

“I don’t want to keep you, I know you have the early shift.” Kylo lingered a bit, as if waiting for Hux to beg him to stay.

Hux did no such thing, turning the helmet in his hands to polish the other side. Kylo figured he should just give up on that for now, turning and heading for the door.

“…Goodnight, Hux.”

“Goodnight, Ren.”

As the door slid shut behind him and Hux’s words soaked in, Kylo realized he’d done something exceptionally right.

**Author's Note:**

> Specifically inspired by this [Tweet](https://twitter.com/cloudyfacewith1/status/1075852308330831873) by @cloudyfacewith1. I accidentally started writing a drabble on it which became a fic, so here it is!  
> —  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/rabidcur)


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